NO-ONE could deny Tuesday was a grey old day, cold and miserable. The gloom seemed to be contagious and raising a smile among the good people of Oxford was like trying to knit fog.

Monday, according to so-called experts, had been a ‘black day’, when spirits are at their lowest and tempers their shortest. It was to do with post-New Year blues combining with finances in the red to create gloom.

It had survived for a second day. Holding open shop doors appeared to be at a minimum while Big Issue salesmen were on a hiding to nothing; a couple reported it was their worst day in months. The public were passing on the other side like supporting players in the story of the Good Samaritan.

The elderly woman was frightened by the young man who cycled up behind her in Queen Street, not only ignoring the bike ban but also riding hands-free. He stopped to speak to friends. The woman walked over, asking what he thought he was doing. He replied in Polish, shrugging his shoulders as if to say he didn’t understand.

She muttered and stomped off, not hearing him speak to those friends seconds later – in perfect English.

NEW Road Baptist Church was closed because of heating problems, meaning no tea or coffee to cheer the casual caller usually served by the ever cheerful David and Linda.

There was no Tuesday arts and crafts market at Oxford Castle. All stalls were empty, a fact that annoyed a Witney couple who claimed they had driven in at great inconvenience during rush hour. According to posters there will be one today. “Don’t hold your breath,” said a young woman whom I took to be in the know. “We could have more snow.”

I DIDN’T hear the earlier part of the conversation, but someone had clearly rattled the cage of one of two men standing in New Inn Hall Street.

“So do you feel the same about dogs?” asked the shorter of the two.

“Not so long as they’re on a lead,” said the other.

“But you can’t be angry with all babies and toddlers,” said the first.

“I can, because they grow up to be ignorant teenagers with minds like sewers and the manners of the farmyard,” was the petulant reply.

THE checkout girl made me feel guilty for not taking my everlasting bag. Handing out another plastic carrier was another nail in the environment’s coffin.

Chastened, I went to the store’s cafe and ordered a hot chocolate. This was served in a polythene cup then topped off with a plastic cover.

“No need for that – I’m drinking it here,” I told the assistant, pointing to a table six feet from the counter.

“But you must have the lid – health and safety rules,” she ordered.