When I first visited Italy and lived at the residency in Eau & Gaz, South Tyrol, I enjoyed being sarcastic when European friends complained about anything. That’s such a ‘first world problem’, I often said, smugly, my delivery always accompanied by laughter. I wanted them to know that while I empathised with whatever they were dealing with, it was important that they understood that their issue was one that was associated with privilege. It was my way of extending my politics to cocktail hour. Unfortunately, a few months ago, when I was in Padua, I had a moment of slight horror as I drank a bottle of tap water and felt somewhat repelled by its taste. Was I a water snob or had I become ‘first world’?

If you were to ask me what constitutes the greatest luxury living in Europe, I wouldn’t bat an eyelid. I would tell you instantly it’s the ability to drink water out of a tap. It doesn’t end there. Where I live, we can drink out of fountains, an indescribable pleasure, especially after an uphill climb. I’d never thought about the taste of water until living here long-term. In my past, it was usually only when I travelled to Goa from Mumbai that I contemplated the difference in flavour. We often muse that whatever we cook in Goa is so much more delicious because the water was more wholesome. But I never dwelled on it.