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"Today I was given the great honour of naming a new child, a little girl that had been born the day before. Each new member is given a commune name, a creature and a colour... None of them looked terribly happy as I held little Red Herring and told them how lovely she was."

They eat a lot of seeds here. They have big bags of them all over and everyone seems to spend a lot of time eating them. I canÂ’t see the attraction myself. I always thought the seeds were the bit you throw away. I tried making a sandwich out of them but sesame seeds and poppy seeds just arenÂ’t the same as jam.

IÂ’ve been accepted into their little community here very quickly, and a lot of the younger people come to me for advice. Essentially the answer to most of their problems is "move to Shropshire" but I try to word it differently to suit each case. They have painted a large blue badger mural on the side of the prefab I am sleeping in as a sign that I am one of them; IÂ’m quite flattered by their gesture, though unimpressed by their depiction of the noble badger.

They seem to burn a lot of incense here. Every home has some bizarre coloured cloud hovering around it. I asked Ruby Yak about this, she said it helped them calm their thoughts and be at one with their surroundings. I think itÂ’s to mask the smell of the chemical toilets.

None of them looked terribly happy as I held little Red Herring and told them how lovely she was. She looks a bit like a very, very young Vivien Leigh, only bald and dribbling.

I also tried to talk to an assembled group about the importance of diversification. I told then that itÂ’s all very well living in a self-contained society, but if you donÂ’t leave every now and then youÂ’ll never find out how much better off you are staying put. ThatÂ’s certainly something I have learned. I took some names for a provisional list of people that want to book a seat on the coach to Shropshire next week.

Gold Dove came to see me this evening about my planned coach trip. He wasnÂ’t very pleased. It seems he had rather hoped that I would be the one to stay with them. I had to tell him frankly that he would never be able to compete with Moreton Say. Moreton Say is such a tight-knit society it makes the "Rainbow Peace Community" look like a bunch of hippies with silly names sat in caravans avoiding reality.

Each of the names I gathered has approached me individually and asked to be removed from my planned outing. Gold Dove is obviously motivating them to do this, I can see him constantly in the background with his arms folded and his face grim. I smiled my best Moreton Say smile back at him and it had no effect.

I donÂ’t feel so welcome here anymore, Pink Mongoose isnÂ’t speaking to me and someone has written "Cyan Badger est atati rangui" underneath my mural. I donÂ’t know what "Cyan Badger est atati rangui" means but IÂ’m pretty sure itÂ’s not praising me for how well I can organise coach trips at short notice.

All this "Peace and Love" stuff is actually wearing a bit thin already, I get the feeling there is an undercurrent of repression in this apparently blissful society. I tried to have a quiet chat with some of the younger people who had previously signed up for my coach outing, not even Olive Marmoset would talk to me about why they no longer wanted to visit Shropshire.

For a while I tried to drum up a bit of enthusiasm among the commune for a game of Bingo, but no one was very keen. I even collected a load of eggs and wrote the number 1 to 49 on them, but they proved to be inadequate substitutes for bingo balls, especially when I put them all in a barrel and spun it around. Gold Dove was looking forward to an omelette for breakfast, so that didnÂ’t help me ingratiate myself to him much either.

I sneaked out this evening and had a look around camp to see if I could find any clues. YouÂ’ll never guess what I saw. A copy of "Country Life" on a table in Gold DoveÂ’s home. Aha. Why would someone who professes to want nothing to do with the outside world be reading about English Country Life? I bet Gold Dove comes from Devon. That would explain a lot.

Gold Dove confronted me with the tape and asked me what I thought I was doing. I told him I was hoping to use his own brainwashing methods to deprogram him so he could see the true face of this warped little commune, lead a mass exodus from the Rainbow Peace Community and come to appreciate the real life in Shropshire instead.

It wasnÂ’t the answer he was looking for.

IÂ’ve been asked to leave.

I feel a bit like Henry Bathman.

Henry Bathman came to live in Moreton Say in 1992. He bought the cottage by the cesspit and wanted to turn it into rented holiday accommodation. Of course the parish council voted against turning the village into some sort of glorified Butlins and forbade him to do so. When he refused to listen to their authority and started to fit things like double glazing and an inside toilet to the cottage, he was, of course, stripped naked, tarred and feathered and driven out by the customary screaming horde of angry villagers.

I feel a bit like Henry being asked to leave like this, only in my case itÂ’s totally unfair.

IÂ’d be hard pressed to say that my time with the commune had been a resounding success for Shropshire/Holland relations, but at least IÂ’ve planted that seed of doubt in some of the younger minds of the community.

I was grateful she called but struggled to see the relevance of her information. Perhaps itÂ’s a code.

IÂ’ve received this message on the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Message Board from Bridget Fixitt -

"Morris, a town needs your help! Please visit Gorinchem in Holland (just north of Breda) The word about you is spreading, and you may have made some web disciples there. The people there uncannily resemble Shropshire folk, but are trapped in their Dutch ways. Ban the bike! Up with Morris!"