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Morris says a sad farewell to John, Paul, George, Ringo and Jon Bon Jovi to hitchhike across the outback...from Ayers Rock, spending a couple of nights at the Filthy Mug... trekking for days on end... and hang on... isn't that Ayers Rock?

Last night we were encouraged to sleep in the open to allow the rock to speak to us in our dreams. I also ate some cheese just before bedtime to enhance the effect and soon after I dreamt about walking down the streets of my beloved Moreton Say. It was so vivid I could smell the spring blossoms, hear the lilting birdsong and taste the Twix I had bought at Mr Pollocks corner shop. It was truly magical and when I awoke my resolve to spread the Moreton Say message was diamond hard.

Cherry, Brittany, Kylie, Chelsea and Amy told me they all dreamed of walking through the most beautiful place they had ever seen. It was full of colour and joy, populated by people both generous and happy, where the animals and birds were tame and content, the water was crystal clear and tasted of liquid laughter, and the air itself sang with music that made them weep with fulfilment. So essentially the same dream as mine, but without the Twix.

They took a little bit of convincing that there dream was also about Moreton Say, but after I talked to them for a several hours in the extreme heat they all agreed that it must have been Shropshire they saw in their dream.

Despite specific advice to the contrary, I am trusting my instincts and trying to hitchhike my way to Perth. ItÂ’s been a few days since I had any major life-threatening experiences so now the girls have left I thought IÂ’d strike out on my own again for a while and enjoy the full-on Australian outback experience.

I met a camera crew today, they were filming a news item about the dangers of the inhospitable outback, so I think I rather spoiled things for them when I walked up with a map tied to my head.

I offered my help to them. I have had some limited experience of television production, IÂ’m an avid watcher of Countdown and often read the credits at the end of the programme. I was once nearly a contestant on Fifteen-To-One, my general knowledge is excellent but only if the question is Shropshire related, so I didnÂ’t ring the application hotline. I explained this to the people filming and told them all about Moreton Say and the delights therein. They seemed mildly interested and filmed a short piece about me, I hope it gets broadcast, I did notice that the presenter started his item about me with "and finally". They were also kind enough to offer me a ride, but itÂ’s such a lovely sunny day it seemed a shame not to walk.

Shockingly, I just came across some bleached human bones on a rock outcropping. The poor soul had been picked clean by whatever picks things clean in Australia. All that remains are the bleached bones, the ragged remains of a bag and a self-help book "How to Survive the Australian Outback". ItÂ’s not a terribly good advertisement for the book. I once read "How To Make Friends and Influence People", it didnÂ’t mention Shropshire once.

The four sheds I saw yesterday, corrugated iron lean-tos, are actually houses. IÂ’ve only met one of the occupants so far, he lives in the shed nearest the Filthy Mug and his name, as far as I can gather, is Meat. He has hair down to his ankles, wide staring eyes and seems to be wearing a loincloth. He seems very nice.

ItÂ’s difficult getting much sense out of Margaret; she doesnÂ’t seem to know where Meat comes from or what his real name is. He just comes into the bar every night and sits on the floor saying "Meat, meat, meat" until Margaret throws him a burger. I saw him do this last night, he eats the burger and then goes back to his shed. ItÂ’s not much of a life but he seems quite happy. I asked Meat if he wanted to come with me, but all he did was keep saying "Meat" again and again. So I gave him my spare shirt and a postcard with a picture of Market Drayton to enhance his lifestyle and give him a little taste of Shropshire. Maybe he will look at the postcard long enough to develop a healthy yearning for Shropshire and one day try to improve himself and travel there.

Still very hot.

ThereÂ’s a very interesting reason behind why the dog was called Walnut, but I canÂ’t for the life of me remember what it is.

IÂ’m getting a bus back to Alice Springs and from there IÂ’m going to fly to Perth. I see no reason why I canÂ’t combine my mission of justice with a little recreation, so IÂ’m going to find "Biggest Bingo" and see how AustraliaÂ’s premier Bingo Hall compares with Sunday night at Market Drayton.

Thankyou to Catherine for remembering my birthday, with each passing year I grow to love and appreciate Shropshire that little bit more.