Poor John and his knives
Not a knife, but the end of a very impressive 20-inch skewer that Poor John’s lunch was cooked on yesterday.
Poor John takes after his father—extremely partial to knives. He always travels with a Leatherman and/or a Swiss Army knife. And he regularly loses one of them. In Africa, he lost his Swiss Army card. That’s a flat number that’s about the size of a credit card. He managed to replace it in Nigeria, when we were camping behind the Sheraton Hotel in Abuja.
On this trip, he has lost his Swiss Army knife. He hoped it had been bundled up in the tent (that happened to my glasses once in Africa), but it wasn’t. He put his back-up Swiss Army card in a safe place so he’d know where it was if he ever needed it. But his hiding place is too good, and he can’t find it. So I’ve loaned him my Swiss Army knife. He’s complaining about it because he thinks its too bulky, but at least he’s got a knife of some type.
Speaking of knives, I caused a bit of a stir before the African trip in 2009. We had a Facebook page where the driver posted trip information and where we could ask questions. In a private message, I asked if the cooking knives would be decent and sharp. He answered publicly, saying yes. I heard later that most everyone on the trip thought I was a bit weird asking about knives.
News flash: I wrote the above item about two weeks ago and we’ve had a rush of success in the last few days. Two days ago, we got our money wallet out of the truck safe and Poor John found his Swiss Army card in there, tucked behind a bundle of US dollars. Oh joy. Then this morning, he found his Swiss Army knife in the toe of his sleeping bag. He is a very happy camper now, and I have my knife back.
Where to next? 
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