He is known as Dusty from Isis Lock to Cropredy, the man on the narrowboat of that name which supplies diesel, gas and coal to land-locked admirals who chug along the Oxford Canal, or have made their home in what we space-hungry landlubbers see as a floating Tardis.

Mark Boardman heaves gas bottles around like a weightlifter and tosses sacks of fuel with the ease rarely seen since the demise of the neighbourhood coalman. I offer my hand. He apologies for the dirt, a humbling gesture for someone whose workplace grime was restricted to faulty typewriter ribbons in pre-computer days.

Just as it is unwise to judge a book by the binding, so it is to make assumptions about Mark. There is more to the dusty' cover of his story than soiled hands and a coal-smudged face. He has been supplies man for only two and a half years, but in a previous incarnation he excelled as a much sought-after graphic designer working on such classic children's books as Rosie and Jim, the TV favourite Tellytubbies and compiling vital material for the Home Office. His talents are still in demand, which he tries to address between meeting the needs of canal folk.

Mark is divorced. His permanent boat home is berthed at Lower Heyford. He estimates that 90 per cent of those who live on the waterways are divorced, the ratio being six to four in favour - if divorce is a favour - of men. But there is nothing lonely about the life of this 50-year-old because he interacts well with most people he meets. He greets them with cheerfulness and affection and affection is returned.

But it would be misleading to suggest he is free of anxieties. They exist and some concern the state and future of the Oxford Canal. "Decay" and "neglect" are words he uses. Then his optimistic spirit returns, together with a broad smile as he looks forward to his weekly indulgence - a deep, hot bath at the home of a friend, rather than a cramped shower on his boat.

A voice is raised. A woman of West African origin is screaming at a girl who is close to tears behind a Banbury supermarket checkout.

"I am only following instructions," protests the girl.

"You are a racist," yells the woman, adding a few ripe adjectives for good measure.

What is the girl's offence? She has refused to accept a credit card that is not the customer's own; she claims it belongs to her husband, but he isn't around to confirm. The woman stamps off, leaving packed plastic carriers at the checkout.

The girl cannot hold back her tears.

"I would have had to do the same with anyone," she says trying to justify her actions when no justification is necessary.

Playing the colour card' earns neither support for race harmony nor personal sympathy from anyone who has heard the woman's rant.

First the Original Shoe store closed its doors. Then Sports World announced its closing-down sale.

Next, the last page turned for The Works discount bookshop, and then, horror of horrors, Tchibo, the coffee house and retailer of ever-changing stock, announced its lease was up and there were no plans to renew. This is not forgetting the empty shell where Time Computers operated until a couple of years ago.

Delay over the Westgate Centre redevelopment is turning that corner of the complex into Ghostgate.