HIS face was like thunder – no more than was to be expected bearing in mind the Prime Minister had announced cutbacks to his beloved Royal Navy less than an hour before.

Captain Jack, as he is known to some of the landlocked admirals whose narrowboats plough the waters of the Thames and canals, tacked across the restaurant of Sainsbury’s Kidlington store.

He had been restocking his galley for the next voyage. I was enjoying an Eccles cake.

“Well? What did you think of his statement?” said the sturdy bearded ex-matelot, depositing his coffee cup with such force that half its contents ended in the saucer. I mused for a few seconds before attempting to compose and deliver a balanced, non-partisan reply.

“If cuts and changes have to be made – so be it,” I said with theatrical gravity. “But I think Sir Winston Churchill will be revolving in his Bladon grave.”

“What are you on about?” he asked, with impatience.

“The Prime Minister’s announcement on Navy cutbacks,” I replied. “Isn’t that what you mean?”

“Is it hell!” he roared. “It’s Alex Ferguson’s press conference about Rooney wanting to leave Old Trafford. B***** tragic, that’s what it is.”

lTHE nation’s finances were foremost in the minds of two couples visiting Oxford from the Cotswolds who had struck up a conversation on the park-and-ride bus from Pear Tree.

Although strangers until they met, their principal concern was the same: our national reputation and the impression all the cost-cutting was having on the rest of the world.

“Things have reached a pretty pass when we send President Pinera home to Chile with 33 bottles of beer for the San Jose miners,” said one of the wives. “It looks so mean. Surely it could have run to a bottle of wine each.”

“What sort – Chilean Merlot?” suggested the other’s husband with a grin that earned an icy glance.

lWORKMEN, who for months past had been busy resurfacing High Street – much to the discomfort and occasional annoyance of thousands – were back on Tuesday, armed with emergency traffic lights, signs, cones and probes.

But this time the speed with which they worked was electrifying. They were checking what appeared to be a breakdown in the new surface.

Within minutes they had inspected the site, reached a conclusion, removed the signs, and returned the lights et al to the trailer, ready to be moved to another suspect site. Traffic flow was restored.

But it was the chap reloading the large cones who caught the eye. He casually tossed each cone into the air and it fell with pinpoint accuracy on to one already aboard. No duff deliveries.

I applauded his skill, possibly gained at a hoopla stall.

He accepted the compliment with a modest yet satisfied smile as the team moved off.