Brian was a white van man' long before the description became derisive. He used his redundancy cash from British Leyland to buy a vehicle and set up as a carrier in and around Cowley and Blackbird Leys.

Then his wife's know-all sister (detached house at Cumnor and granny flat in waiting) pointed out the word carrier' had unfortunate connotations of sexually transmitted diseases, and his other half insisted he found another word to describe his occupation.

The card he had put in the newsagent's window was changed to say his business was light haulage', but her indoors (now ex-her indoors) said this conveyed the idea that he couldn't deal with anything heavier than a card table. Where was his ambition?

"I never intended to take on big jobs," he told me as we waited to pay for fuel at Sainsbury's Heyford Hill filling station.

"I'm a one-man band. Shifting heavy gear is out. Since then, I've never bothered finding another word; it doesn't seem to matter. Business is steady."

We watched the driver of a large container lorry fill his fuel tank with what must have amounted to a small lake.

"Have you seen how many transport businesses use the word logistics'?" he said, returning to the name topic while pointing to that noun painted large in red on the side of the vehicle.

"What the blazes does it mean? They probably think it sounds impressive. I always thought logistics were to do with the movement and supply of troops."

Put that way, it did seem another example of changing a name for the sake of it - as when dustbin men became refuse operatives and traffic wardens turned into civil enforcement officers.

The maze that was old St Ebbe's may have gone, but its replacement is no less of a muddle of twists and turns.

A quiet corner to which I often retreat, even if only for a few minutes, is the small garden, no larger than a cricket square, that was given to the people of Oxford by Laing Homes in October 1996.

The then Lord Mayor, Beryl Keen, witnessed it, as a small plaque recording the builders' generosity testifies.

It would be cynical to suggest the gift was made only because it was too small to accommodate a block of flats, but it is a welcoming haven of peace.

The massive stones acting as seats offer all a well-upholstered backside needs for comfort.

But is it in danger from the Westgate Centre redevelopment plan? Those official notices attached to many a post and alerting us to things to come, are rather ambiguous.

Speaking of peace, this has been restored to the Schools Quadrangle at the Old Bodleian Library now essential work has finished - for the time being, at any rate. Old treasures are in constant need of attention.

I mentioned my delight to the young woman in the Catte Street entrance kiosk.

She agreed in a delightful American East Coast accent.

So what was someone from the New World doing advising visitors from far and wide in this most English of locations?

I asked and, as often happens, the reply was fascinating.

Maggie - she invited me to address her as such - a devotee of medieval history, has a Master's degree from St Andrew's University, is married to a Scot, now with our University.

When not doing her bit for the Bodleian in one department or another, she is completing a project for her PhD.

She is writing a biography of a Welsh prince, whose name I have completely forgotten, and who hit the headlines in the early 13th century by cosying up to the English king of the day.

A young American from New York and New Jersey, now in Oxford, via Scotland, recording for posterity the life of a long-dead Welsh prince on her route to a doctorate!

I should stop being surprised by what this wonderful city offers.