It was one of those hard-to-explain happenings, unexpected on a sunny Tuesday morning on the banks of the Thames, yards from the gasworks bridge.

There was not a narrowboat or any other craft to be seen in either direction. No swans, geese, ducks, coots or moorhens seemed afloat.

The river was flat, apart from a few expanding circles signifying the presence of fish untroubled by anglers.

There was no sound of a train either approaching or leaving the city, and the hum of traffic in Abingdon Road and Oxpens was strangely absent.

Even birds were unusually quiet for this time in the mating season.

The footpaths on both banks were void of people. It was part magical, part eerie.

How many seconds the sensation of being the only person in the world continued is difficult to say.

It couldn't have been long, but sufficient to foster the idea that the world belonged to me and me alone - a dangerous feeling of grandeur I should have tried to suppress.

But this idyll was all-too-soon shattered by a distant train's warning horn. It seemed to herald an awakening.

Two canoes appeared from the direction of Folly Bridge, one blue, one red (his and hers?).

A cyclist sped up from the rear, rang her bell frantically, causing me to leap dangerously near the water's edge, coots darted, ducks quacked, while a pair of male Canada geese started a feathery punch-up.

Normality - if we can call it that - was fully restored when two teenage lads emerged from a south bank cottage, one relating a confrontation with some third party, and the other confessing that had he been so treated he would have decked the b******'.

Ah well, it was nice while it lasted.

The short, gated path between Merton Street and Christ Church Meadow was closed, a notice posted at either end announcing this would be the situation from 10am on Tuesday to the same time on Wednesday - not something you expect midweek.

There was no sign of tree felling, no emergency work to path or walls, in fact nothing to explain this event.

Curiosity took over and I eventually learned the closure was for security reasons. But for whom? My informant said it was confidential. That curiosity became intense.

Further ferreting followed and I learned the Chinese Ambassador to the Court of St James was visiting Merton College with the Chancellor Lord Patten in tow and that university powers were anxious to play it cool so not to be overrun by protesters, particularly by students who are not China's biggest fans at present.

Personally I can think of no better means of attracting attention than to close a much-used path for 24 hours, post notices, yet remain silent as to the reason.

Aren't students supposed to have inquiring minds?

Tony and his spotted dog are a feature of Queen Street, seated and selling the Big Issue outside Marks & Spencer in the recessed area which offers some shelter from cold and rain.

But it would seem they have outstayed their welcome and Tony has been told to move a couple of feet on to the open pavement.

Fire regulations have been cited as the reason, although Tony has never obstructed the emergency door and it is hard to think he is less of an obstruction two feet further out.

The decision hardly rests comfortably with the retail giant's present feely-touchy promotional push in which it describes itself as Your M&S'.

It would be nice to know what Sir Stuart Rose, a former manager of that store, now sitting as God's relative as head of the organisation, who presumably OK-ed the slogan, thinks about it.

Rubbing shoulders with the county set, I had donned Barbour, tweed cap and wellies, and headed for the Grafton hunter trials.

I never before realised there were quite so many girls and young women called Abigail, Annabelle, Hermione, Francesca, Pippa or Sophie.