I can't remember a time that I did not own a knife. I think I was about 7 years old when I managed to badger my father for a small foldable knife, and I spent hours carving drift wood, making spears and catapults, preparing fish, or gouging into green coconuts on the beaches in NE Brazil. I had what I regard as an idyllic childhood, free to explore my natural surroundings, occasionally making mistakes and getting into trouble, but, here is the important point, learning about my physical limits through trial and error, learning a sense of respect for rip-tides, sea-snakes, jelly-fish and of course, knives. So it's with a heavy heart that I read about the knife crime in the UK, particularly amongst the young. They face a different set of challenges, far more difficult than I had. It's just a shame that their challenges are played out through the symbol of the knife.