If you’ve ever ambled along Regent’s Canal on a rare sunny afternoon—perhaps dodging cyclists, lapping up overpriced coffee, or pretending not to eavesdrop on couples arguing outside houseboats—you might have spotted something decidedly unexpected: a terrapin, sunbathing like it owns the canal.
Yes, really. Terrapins. In London. Not in a zoo or aquarium, but living their best semi-aquatic lives right here in the capital, quietly thriving in the murky waters between Limehouse and Little Venice.
The story begins, as so many weird urban nature tales do, with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Back in the ’90s, hordes of kids pestered their parents into buying red-eared sliders—the very species now lounging about in Regent’s Canal. Cute at first, they soon grew large, uncooperative, and far less charming than their pizza-loving cartoon counterparts. Cue a mass release into ponds, lakes, and yes, our beloved canal.
Decades later, many of those terrapins are still around, the ultimate uninvited guests who never got the hint.
Mostly? Chilling. Basking in the sun on half-submerged logs and canal debris, pretending it’s Florida. Red-eared sliders are hardy creatures, managing to survive London’s winters by hunkering down in the muddy canal bed. The one thing they weren’t supposed to do was reproduce.
Except—plot twist—a baby terrapin was recently spotted in the canal. For years, it was believed that our climate was too cold for breeding. But with summers becoming hotter and more Mediterranean by the year (thanks, climate change), these sun-seeking reptiles might just be settling in for good. Generation Two has arrived.
In a word: slightly. Terrapins are considered invasive. They munch on native wildlife, disrupt delicate pond ecosystems, and generally aren’t the best neighbours if you happen to be a duckling or a frog. The Canal & River Trust, while not exactly launching a terrapin-hunting task force, does encourage people not to release pets into waterways—unless you think that’s a good look for your karma.
But there’s also something oddly poetic about it. These urban reptiles, abandoned and forgotten, have adapted to a city that changes faster than the rent. They’re survivors. Outsiders. The scrappy underdogs of the canal world.
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