I have always hated and never learned history. Well, almost always. Mostly, because I had exceptionally anti-talented history teachers, who were weaklings as a human being, too.
The first history teacher I liked wasn't even a real one - they made him teach British history, poor man! Anyway, when he first entered the lecture room I thought he was the janitor who came to fix the heating, so you can imagine my surprise, when he went to the microphone and started to speak.
My biggest surprise was that what he said had some sense. I enjoyed the "history" lectures thoroughly - I savour the most precious moment up to now:
He was telling us some stuff about Henry V, and then after a time he said: Oh, no, no, no, wait a moment. Everything I said is ok, but it was about Henry IV, only accidentally I truned over two pages in my notes.
But not all was this silly stuff and for a fact, that was the first time I actually made an effort to understand the Whys of history, read up a bit about it and even - horror of horrors - learned something.