Life I visited Buxton today to sample the spring water at the source. I've been feeling a bit trapped lately and decided that it might help. The spring, an always on steady flowing water fountain opposite the tourist information is in sandstone in the shape of a lion. As I patiently queue up the people ahead of me are filling up empty five litre bottles. A woman smiles as she hovers her bottle under the stream.

"Is this the actual actual spring?" I ask.
"It is." She answers, "And it's a god send. Our water's off at home. With any luck it'll be back on by the end of the day."

Then it's my turn. I cup my hands under the stream and take a sip and then a gulp. It's possibly the purest water I've ever tasted. From a tap or a plastic bottle, water seems to always have a slightly unpleasant back taste as though the sheer process of getting it to a house or shop has ruined it somehow.

But this is the first time I've found lukewarm water truly refreshing. It dribbles over the edges of my fingers and looks pretty in the light as it hits the grill underneath. I take four or five more gulps and then throw some around my face -- it goes up my nose. I take some more. Then I realise it's time to go. I feel much better -- I'm sure it's a placebo effect -- the result of the process of being there as much as the water itself -- but it helped.

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