In a ruling that has sent shivers down the spines of parched Britons everywhere, an Italian court has decreed that hotels are perfectly within their rights to refuse tap water to parched tourists. The decision, celebrated by hoteliers as a victory for mineral water, has been met with the kind of outrage usually reserved for a missed penalty in a World Cup final. Consumer watchdogs are frothing, demanding EU-wide standards that guarantee every paying guest a glass of the wet stuff without having to flog a kidney for a bottle of San Pellegrino.
The case revolves around a thirsty visitor from Manchester who dared to ask for a glass of tap water at a hotel bar. Instead of a refreshing gulp, he got a lawyer. The court ruled that hotels are commercial enterprises, not charitable water fountains, and can charge for the privilege of hydration. This has sparked a furious debate about the very nature of hospitality: is it a transaction or a sacred trust?
British consumer groups, never ones to let a good crisis go to waste, are now calling for EU-wide legislation. They argue that tap water is a basic human right, not a bargaining chip. The idea that a hotel can deny water is as absurd as a pub refusing to serve peanuts. It smacks of the kind of petty tyranny that makes you want to start a revolution, or at least a very stern letter to the local paper.
Meanwhile, Italian hoteliers are rubbing their hands with glee, anticipating a boom in bottled water sales. They have, after all, cornered the market on itsy-bitsy plastic bottles that cost more per litre than petrol. Tourists are advised to pack their own water bottles, or better yet, simply never be thirsty.
The irony is thick enough to spread on toast. Italy, a land renowned for its aqueducts and fountains, is now telling tourists to either pay up or shut up. One can almost hear the ghosts of Roman engineers weeping into their togas.
So what's next? Charging for air? A fee for using the loo? The mind boggles, which is just as well, because reality has clearly packed its bags and gone to Spain. British tourists, already reeling from the cost of a pint of warm beer, are now faced with the prospect of paying for water. It's enough to drive a man to drink, assuming he can afford the first glass.
In the meantime, the EU is likely to issue a directive, probably after a lengthy consultation process and a heated debate about the precise definition of 'tap'. The result will be a compromise that satisfies no one, written in five languages, and printed on 500 pages of recyclable paper. Because that's how democracy works: slowly, messily, and with a lot of documents.
Until then, the best advice for British tourists is to bring a large flask filled with water from home, ideally smuggled in via a fake Harry Potter book. Or, failing that, simply accept that hydration is now a luxury, like truffles or not queuing. Welcome to Europe, where the water isn't free, but the bureaucracy certainly is.
