One of the pleasures of London is the ability to plunge suddenly from the frantic hussle and bustle into a surprising quiet corner, where you might be in another century, or another world. Stand outside the London Zoo in Regent’s Park on a busy Sunday, and you’re in the midst of mobs of children and hassled parents. Walk a few yards, down a short ramp, and you’re suddenly in a tranquil water world,with a shield of trees between you and the city. You are on the Regent’s Canal, built from 1812 to 1820.



The sheltered position was not designed for the pleasure of canal-users – for they were mere working-class bargemen, carrying goods from the Paddington Canal down to the Thames – but to protect the wealthy residents of the fine villas already built by John Nash along the northern border of Regent’s Park.

The depth of that cutting – 25 feet at its deepest – was to prove vital in 1874, when London experienced what could have been one of its worst-ever industrial accidents. A chain of barges carrying five tonnes of gunpowder, plus petroleum, sugar and other goods, exploded in the early hours of the morning. Only three were killed. Had the explosion occurred a mile or so down-canal, in the Islington Tunnel, the death toll could have been enormous.

To reach the canal, from the north-east corner of the zoo turn right, towards the incongruous Chinese-styled vessel (a restaurant) that floats in a “corner” of the Canal known as Cumberland basin. Heading north, the main bulk of the zoo is on your right, the impressive aviary that opened in 1965 — its design by Lord Snowdon — on your left.

You’ll pass under three delicate footbridges, with fine iron work, before reaching the more-solid Macclesfield Bridge, where the 1874 disaster occurred. The original bridge was destroyed, but rebuilt (left) as designed by James Elmes in 1829. The sweat and muscle-power of generations of horses can be remembered here, as you run your fingers over the grooves worn by the ropes that fastened them to the barges. They are on both sides of the cast-iron columns, which were reused after the explosion.

The next bridge as you stroll along on the path that the horses once used is chunky and rather less than elegant. It carries only foot-traffic, but beneath the walkers’ feet is an aqueduct that carries the Tyburn River over the canal. This area seems to be a favourite haunt of the swans that are among the canal’s regular inhabitants. You might also seen coots (with a white patch above their beaks), moorhens (with a red patch), and Canada geese.

Strolling on, you’ll be passing by some of the most expensive houses in London. John Nash had planned to build 56 villas in the Park, but only eight were built in the 19th century; another six were added (in the traditional style) late in the 20th, before reaching a moorings where some of the more humble canal habitations – narrowboats – are moored.

Thus far you’ve seen a lot in a half-hour gentle stroll, but you’re about the encounter a sudden steep climb – up and down, while the canal itself disappears into a deep, spooky-looking tunnel, over which is built a curious house over the bridge.

After crossing the busy road, you can again follow the canal, and suddenly you might be in Paris. An elegant little cafe perches over the canal, neat boats are lined along it, and beyong them elegant 19th-century terraces. One, marked with a plaque, was home to the acress Lillie Langtry.

This is perhaps the most “Parisien” corner of Paris; close your eyes and squint a little and you might be across the Channel. Soon you’ll reach the traingularly-shaped Little Venice, one of the classiest addresses in London, where the Regent’s Canal ends and the Grand Junction Canal begins. On this triangular-shaped pond are a number of cafe-boats – a great spot for lunch or afternoon tea, before you turn back towards Regents Park or on towards Paddington. Should the feet have had enough, the London Waterbus Company will take you to Camden, close by the Tube station there.

* This account was researched using Exploring the Regent’s Canal, by Michael Essex-Lopresti, Brewin Books, first published in 1987.