Back when I was a kid, being made to drink tap water was tantamount to being force-fed weed killer from a broken jam jar. It was our one and only drink option in the school canteen, usually poured from a battered tin jug that had probably been retrieved from the wreckage after the school was bombed during the blitz.
There were drinking fountains in the school toilets as well, which were only ever used a) in the summer term and b) following some particularly strenuous physical activity such as a 15-a-side football match or the mass hysteria that was unleashed after a stray dog had encroached on to the playground (the latter being the very best thing ever about school).
Tap water was kryptonite. Why would you opt for its bland non-taste when you could guzzle down a glass of sugar-crammed fizzy pop, some turbo-strength cordial, or even a pint of full-fat milkshake (it was good enough for Alberto the frog from Bod so it was definitely good enough for us).
Somehow, in the subsequent few decades, we’ve all been subsumed into the cult of bottled water. Every year, Brits use 7.7bn single-use plastic water bottles but only a limited number of those are recycled. Aesthetically pleasing bottles and labels designed to suggest sophistication have tapped right into our collective self-loathing and desire for “wellness” – even if we’re chucking said bottles away afterwards and probably killing dolphins into the bargain.
I’ll grudgingly concede that a 500ml serving of water that has been sourced from a spring in the Peak District is probably better for your personal engine than, say, a lukewarm can of Tizer (even though my nine-year-old self would have violently disagreed). And yes, fine, I’ll concede that there is a noticeable difference in taste between that aforementioned spring water and the fluoride-tinged stuff that flows freely from our kitchen taps. But when did it become acceptable to shell out 80p for a small bottle of Evian from a supermarket? Is it REALLY 80p better than tap water?
Inevitably, we sigh deeply as we consider the warped state of affairs that has led to a man named Martin Riese somehow carving out a career for himself as a “water sommelier” at Ray’s & Stark Bar, a restaurant at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Martin is the proud author of a 44-page sewn-bound water menu, containing descriptions such as, “nestled among beech wood and chestnut forests on the slopes of Mount Gazzaro” (for Acqua Panna), along with scientific data about the make up of each brand of water.
The absolute chancer.
But while we’re indulging ourselves by necking hundreds of thousands of gallons of bottled water every year in the pursuit of physical purity, we’re ignoring the fact that we’re creating vast plastic mountain ranges that are choking the planet and contributing to increased litter on the streets. According to research commissioned by the environmental charity Keep Britain Tidy and the filter jug manufacturer Brita UK, only a quarter of people admitted to knowing their legal rights when it comes to asking for a glass of tap water, while a third of us admit to feeling awkward when asking for water for a reusable bottle, even if we are buying something else.
Don’t be afraid to assert yourself and help knock the bottled water industry on its arse – you’re legally entitled to free tap water when you’re in licensed premises in England, Scotland and Wales (possibly subject to a small charge for using one of their glasses). And if you’re going to snub the delights of gassy, sugary, recyclable cans of fizzy pop, at least arm yourself with some sort of refillable vessel and seek out that gratis tap water that is your right as a human being.
If we’re reinventing society, perhaps the leaked Labour manifesto should have included a pledge to introduce water fountains on every major street in the land – and maybe Jeremy Corbyn’s renationalised trains could have free tap water for all along with the promised wifi. Maybe the day will come when we look back at mass consumption of bottled water with the same bewilderment with which we now regard driving without a seatbelt or smoking on planes. Stray dogs running amok in playgrounds can stay though – that’ll never, ever be wrong.
