London Canal Museum review
Canals. That's one of those words that sits alongside caravans, cottages and sheds as a waypoint towards old age. There comes a point in everybody's life when they swap cocktails in a nightclub for a freeze-box filled with French bread and coleslaw on the banks of a canal. They stretch their legs out in the tall wispy grass and watch the houseboats chugging by, maybe waving at an old couple onboard as if they've known them for years. (You always have to wave at strangers on a boat -- that's one of the rules of the riverbank.) Then they go home and watch Songs of Praise on the telly. That is what life is like down at the canal. But it wasn't always like that... because fifty years ago it was like a smokey motorway.
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