Eau Dear
Terrible pun in the title, I know, and I'd just like to say how sorry I am. Which isn't very, obviously, or I wouldn't have done it.
In the primitive supermarkets of 1970s England and in their predecessors, known as "grocers", you could choose from a plentiful supply of soft drinks. Dandelion and Burdock, Tizer, Ribena, bright orange squash crammed full with artificial everything, lemon barley water, to name but a few.
Of course, some of these still exist, huddled in their shame into one end of the aisle with their bottles boasting piteously of their supposed lots-of-fruit-juice-no-added-sugar health-giving qualities. And what's in the rest of the aisle? Water, that's what. Masses and masses of it. Perrier, Evian, Buxton, Caledonian, Strathglen, Brecon Carreg. Some of these waters are still, which taste fine; some are sparkling, which are vile - I don't like sparkling drinks in general but really don't see the point of water that sends bubbles up your nose.
What is the point of all this? In the seventies only a few poshos drank Perrier and we thought they were a bit daft. Now millions of us drink it. Why?
Perhaps it's because we're a bit suspicious of tap water. We don't like the idea that it's been purified - what was in it before? Yuck. And also, we want to show we're classy and can afford to buy spring water and we want to claim that our superior palates can tell the difference between Eau Dear and Leeds Tap. And we hope that spring water is better for us and has mysterious trace elements in it which will give us the gift of eternal youth.
So the water companies get the water from Belle Eau in France and then they bottle it in new plastic bottles. Do any of the chemicals in the plastic leach into the water, I wonder? Then they transport the bottles of water in lorries, for miles and miles and miles, crowding the roads and using up gallons of diesel.
None too good for the environment then. And probably no better for us. And even if it were to be proved to be better for us - which I doubt - I still don't think it's justifiable. Just imagine standing in front of a Third World village and trying to explain that we think it's perfectly acceptable to bring our drinking water from hundreds of miles away. Oh, they would say, you poor things, is there no drinkable water nearby?
Well, yes, actually, there is: you just turn on the tap - - - -
In the primitive supermarkets of 1970s England and in their predecessors, known as "grocers", you could choose from a plentiful supply of soft drinks. Dandelion and Burdock, Tizer, Ribena, bright orange squash crammed full with artificial everything, lemon barley water, to name but a few.
Of course, some of these still exist, huddled in their shame into one end of the aisle with their bottles boasting piteously of their supposed lots-of-fruit-juice-no-added-sugar health-giving qualities. And what's in the rest of the aisle? Water, that's what. Masses and masses of it. Perrier, Evian, Buxton, Caledonian, Strathglen, Brecon Carreg. Some of these waters are still, which taste fine; some are sparkling, which are vile - I don't like sparkling drinks in general but really don't see the point of water that sends bubbles up your nose.
What is the point of all this? In the seventies only a few poshos drank Perrier and we thought they were a bit daft. Now millions of us drink it. Why?
Perhaps it's because we're a bit suspicious of tap water. We don't like the idea that it's been purified - what was in it before? Yuck. And also, we want to show we're classy and can afford to buy spring water and we want to claim that our superior palates can tell the difference between Eau Dear and Leeds Tap. And we hope that spring water is better for us and has mysterious trace elements in it which will give us the gift of eternal youth.
So the water companies get the water from Belle Eau in France and then they bottle it in new plastic bottles. Do any of the chemicals in the plastic leach into the water, I wonder? Then they transport the bottles of water in lorries, for miles and miles and miles, crowding the roads and using up gallons of diesel.
None too good for the environment then. And probably no better for us. And even if it were to be proved to be better for us - which I doubt - I still don't think it's justifiable. Just imagine standing in front of a Third World village and trying to explain that we think it's perfectly acceptable to bring our drinking water from hundreds of miles away. Oh, they would say, you poor things, is there no drinkable water nearby?
Well, yes, actually, there is: you just turn on the tap - - - -
At the end of the aisle I noticed "Table Water" - and what on earth is that? No claims that it's spring water, no explanation of where it comes from. Seventeen pence a bottle. Bargain.
Where do they get it from? Could it be that they- - - ? - - no, surely not - - - !
I know just whom the Cult of Bottled Water benefits. It's the supermarkets. They could sell bottled water under a brand called One Born Every Minute and we'd still buy it.
I'm going to put Leeds Tap in my Ribena and if I die of Leeds Tap poisoning I want you to know that I take back everything I've said.
posted by Daphne at 6:16 pm
2 Comments:
I've never seen the sense in bottled water. Now, the temperature at which it is drunk makes a difference: cool, but not too cold, it so much nicer.
For those that like to be frightened, here is an American report...
http://www.nrdc.org/water/drinking/bw/exesum.asp
The water that comes out of the taps of Oxford is pretty disgusting, for example a kettle will fur up within one week if any tap water is left in it after boiling. However, put it through a filter and it is perfectly drinkable and a much cheaper option than buying bottled dubious source water. Mind you I still don't leave any in my kettle and regularly have to descale my shower head.
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