Canals of London have stories to tell

LONDON — Creaking. Splashing. Water the color of green jade. Tall grasses and dark tunnels.

The back side of London is made up of these narrow old waterways. They snake through the back yard of the zoo, the back yard of mansions, the back yard of offices and shops, the back yard of history.

How does anyone know they're here?

Because they are not as remote as they seem.

Tourists have mastered the London Underground, the London streets, the London bridges and parks.

But to see the city from the water sets it at a tilted angle, another perspective. Look at a map and see the canals. And ponds. And the wide, slow river Thames. They all have their own story to tell about London.

The canals

Tired of wandering in Camden Market on a Sunday, I hurry to the London Waterbus barge that is docked next to the teeming stalls.

"How much?" I ask.

"Five pounds," the boatman says.

I hop on.

He unties the barge, and we glide away down the Regent's Canal on our way to Little Venice, a London neighborhood I'd never heard of.

In the old days, miles of narrow canals moved merchandise around the city. Today, they move houseboats and sightseers.

We leave behind Camden, with its goth shops, boutiques, antiques, black leather, little dogs, nose rings, bags of doughnuts and fresh lemonade.

Along the edges, houseboats in colors of a dozen bright paintings are docked.

It's not what you'd expect. It's quiet. Very quiet. The sun gleams on the still water.

Then, I gasp.

A little girl in our boat leans so far out the side door to see what's ahead that she nearly tips out.

Will she sink like a stone? Will someone jump in? Where are her parents? Should I grab her?

Then, another tour barge passes us so closely on the left that the girl draws back quickly. The passengers in the other boat notice us and they wave, and we wave back, and they wave back again, and then they're gone.