A sneaky café charged me 50p for tap water
At a café in Padstow last month I asked for three flat whites and a tap water to take away. Only too late, rummaging through my pockets back at home, did I look at the receipt and discover I had been charged 50p for the tap water. Imagine my outrage. Charging for tap water! I was all set to go and firebomb the place, but it was explained to me that an unexpected 50p charge was not a reason to jump in the car and drive six hours back to Cornwall.
Like every Englishman, I knew that free tap water is a right enshrined in Magna Carta if not earlier. It is a point of national pride. Other nations suffer the indignities of undrinkable tap water, scarcely fit to wash your hair or brush your teeth with, a few rogue drops of which might cause unmentionable diseases, even death. Abroad, every hotel room comes with gallons of bottled water, like an army camp. But not here.
That’s why no self-respecting Englishman would dream of ordering ‘still’ mineral water in a restaurant. Nothing makes the blood run hot with the fire of St George like fixing a waiter in the eye and replying, ‘Tap’s fine.’ You will enjoy refreshing H20 and, what is much more important, you will not pay for it.
OK, I might not reduce the café to cinders, I thought, staring at the offending receipt, but I would certainly seek recourse through the courts. At the very least I would name and shame the establishment in The Telegraph for breaking the law so flagrantly. Let the public decide what they think of the tap-water-chargers.
Anyway, it turns out I was wrong. It turns out that tap water is only an obligation for premises with a licence to sell alcohol. If you are unlicensed, you are free to do as you please. Tourists are free to die of thirst on your pavement, or hallucinate mirages in your cake shelves. Even licensed premises have no responsibility to provide a receptacle for actually drinking the water. You might cup your hands under their tap; anything else is extra.
Once I had calmed down I called up the café in question to ask them about their policy of charging for tap water.
‘We don’t charge for tap water,’ said the man on the phone. I said I had a receipt that proved they did. ‘Oh, did you not bring your cup?’ came the reply. ‘We charge for the container. We have always done that.’
It was a bit sneaky, but could I quibble over them charging for a paper cup? The café occupies a prime spot in one of Britain’s busiest tourist spots. I could see why they might not want to become a free water dispensary. Should they be forced to pay for cups for the whole population?
All of this reflects poorly on the dire state of water drinking in Britain. Aping Americans, Britons have internalised the notion that they need to be constantly hydrating, like carp. Litres and litres of the stuff per day, regardless of the weather or how much physical activity they are doing.
At the same time, public drinking fountains and taps have been vanishing for decades. People are suspicious of sharing them, without any good reason. They would rather drink from a single-use plastic bottle, even though they all come with jagged, unremovable caps which makes drinking from them like snogging the monster from Alien.
We need more water fountains, but we also need people who are unafraid to use them. Shame the bottle lovers into compliance. Until then, always check your receipts and carry a cup. And if you are truly dying of thirst, go to the pub.