Before Sunita arrived, she had ordered bottled water to be delivered. Apparently she can only digest Artisan water (whatever that is), with a high Ph level, and most importantly, bottled at source.
Don’t. Just don’t.
It took a while to arrive, so Sarah was sent out to find another local brand which satisfies the requirements. So a couple of cartons of 1.2ish litre bottles were waiting for her in the garage.
Just before our departure, the first of 4 cartons arrived from the original online order. Regardless, they went out water shopping, and picked up more bottles, as well as a couple of 10litre cartons. You know the sort? Like the cask of really classy wine of my misspelt youth. With a little tap you can pop out at the bottom. We referred to it as Chateaux Cardboard.
So we have a box of Chateau Aqua on our bench. Another one went into the car, for her to park in her hotel rooms
Clearly darling sister-in-law was oblivious to the facts of New Zealand water. Up until fairly recently, most tap water in the country was better than the gay French shit you buy by the bottle. Then the government decided to pay for adding chlorine to the water instead of investing in the upkeep of reservoirs and pipes.
Even after that, there are 1001 bottling plants around the country hawking their local water as gods gift.
It may be different in Singapore, but here, pretty much every bottle of water on pretty much any supermarket shelf complies with her stringent standards. Along with a lot of taps.
Tourists!
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