Call off the search.

It is with great pleasure that I announce my survival after a trip to Asdas.

It was close for a second though. At one point I had to face the grim possibility of having to drink my own urine after getting lost in the dairy section. If it wasn't for a passing fur trader I may have perished next to the perishables. Luckily I kept a diary of my adventure and expect it to be published in the new year. The working title I have for the book is "Dessert aisleland."

The book should be filled with high adventure as the story unfolds. There now follows a sample chapter just to whet your appetite in the vain hope that you'll buy a copy and recommend it to all your friends...

I am faced with the possibility that I am stranded here in this vast and somewhat chilly land. Fortunately there is abundant supplies of yoghurt and pineapples to keep me sustained until I can fashion a rudimentary knife to allow me to build traps to capture whatever wild animals live in this vast wasteland.

The local tribe seem to be somewhat docile and unable to speak English. They wear strange green colored cloth and look as though they have only learned to walk upright within the last few months. I am certain I'm dealing with life forms who are on the lower end of the evolutionary scale. They almost remind me of the McDonalds tribe whom I remember from my old life. The similarity is uncanny.

When I attempt to communicate with them, by using the Queens English, I am met with blank stares of incomprehension and strange guttural noises. At times, some of the sounds they use to communicate seem to resemble English, though perhaps this is because I am becoming weak minded and have begun to hallucinate. I'm sure one of the tribe said the word "Exit" to me but when I asked the male tribe member, who had uttered the word, to repeat it all I got was incomprehensible nonsense and a panicked look upon the face of the beast.

Their religion is strange in that they worship a voice which emanates from holes in the sky. An audible chime, which I presume is their version of a Christian society's church bells or a Muslim call to prayer, comes suddenly and unexpectedly and all around me the local tribe gaze to the heavens and listen in awe. When the Gods have spoken a second, lower pitched, chime is heard and the locals heads drop back to the ground upon which they stand and sacred words are uttered. The words, which I will attempt to recreate here using phonetic English, are "Puh-Rice-tch-Ek."

The Tour accompanying the launch of the limited edition hardback, with foreword by survival expert Ray Mears, should begin around about the first of April 2006.