Camden was just a small peaceful village on the banks of the Fleet until the early 18th century, at which point the Regent's Canal arrived. You remember the Regent's Canal - I spent a week walking the length of it back in May... which is good news because it means I don't have to go into great detail about the canal today. Here's a map of Camden Town in 1827, with the canal cutting across the centre and the tiny Fleet still visible wiggling through the outskirts of the growing town. The two branches of the upper Fleet joined just north of Hawleys Lock, and the canal then followed the path of the amalgamated river between what is now Kentish Town Road and Camden Road. The river's route carefully avoids all the well-known tourists haunts of modern Camden, passing instead the egg-topped TV-AMstudios and a shiny grey Sainsbury's built on the site of the Aerated Bread Company (ABC) bakery. There are no henna tattoos here.
And then comes Lyme Street, a quiet tree-lined breath of calm. We're back in residential Camden with smart three-storey houses, well-kept gardens and every parking space at a premium. Nelson Mandela poppedby a couple of years ago to unveil a blue plaque commemorating freedom fighters Ruth First and Joe Slovo who lived at number 13 while South Africa sorted itself out. And at the southern end of the street, just outside the Prince Albert pub, I found this drain cover making a strange noise. It wasn't raining, and it hadn't been for days, but I could plainly hear the sound of rushing water through the grate beneath my feet. It could only be the piped torrents of the Fleet river rising up from below, exactly where my map said they should be. I got some funny looks from the pub regulars when I started taking photographs of the drain cover but what the heck - you can't be a successfulpsychogeographer without losing your street credibility occasionally.
The 1830 map shows the next section of the Fleet as a charming canalside stroll along meadowed riverbanks. The river meandered through the grounds of the Royal Veterinary College, past "Mr Agar's Farm" and (just as a salutary reminder that Victorian life wasn't all idyllic) past the St PancrasWorkhouse. You couldn't describe the modern landscape here as charming. St Pancras Way is an ugly light industrial road lined by mail depots, builders merchants and grim offices. The Head Office of designer clothing company Ted Baker at number 6a even self-mockingly calls itself "The Ugly Brown Building", and they're not wrong. But, just south of here, I discovered a London jewel I'd never stumbled upon before, and I'll wax lyrical about that tomorrow [preview here]. Following the Fleet: Hawley Road, Regent's Canal, Lyme Street, College Street, Georgiana Street, St Pancras Way
Reviewing the Fleet
Camden was just a small peaceful village on the banks of the Fleet until the early 18th century, at which point the Regent's Canal arrived. You remember the Regent's Canal - I spent a week walking the length of it back in May... which is good news because it means I don't have to go into great detail about the canal today. Here's a map of Camden Town in 1827, with the canal cutting across the centre and the tiny Fleet still visible wiggling through the outskirts of the growing town. The two branches of the upper Fleet joined just north of Hawleys Lock, and the canal then followed the path of the amalgamated river between what is now Kentish Town Road and Camden Road. The river's route carefully avoids all the well-known tourists haunts of modern Camden, passing instead the egg-topped TV-AM studios and a shiny grey Sainsbury's built on the site of the Aerated Bread Company (ABC) bakery. There are no henna tattoos here.
And then comes Lyme Street, a quiet tree-lined breath of calm. We're back in residential Camden with smart three-storey houses, well-kept gardens and every parking space at a premium. Nelson Mandela popped by a couple of years ago to unveil a blue plaque commemorating freedom fighters Ruth First and Joe Slovo who lived at number 13 while South Africa sorted itself out. And at the southern end of the street, just outside the Prince Albert pub, I found this drain cover making a strange noise. It wasn't raining, and it hadn't been for days, but I could plainly hear the sound of rushing water through the grate beneath my feet. It could only be the piped torrents of the Fleet river rising up from below, exactly where my map said they should be. I got some funny looks from the pub regulars when I started taking photographs of the drain cover but what the heck - you can't be a successful psychogeographer without losing your street credibility occasionally.
Reviewing the Fleet
And then comes 