Agua, Por Favor: How to Drink & Talk Water Like a Spaniard

My friend Fernando has always leaned center-left, which is why I was taken aback when he turned down a glass of Vichy Catalán water. "Have you gone over to the Ayuso side?" I joked, referring to Madrid’s right-leaning Partido Popular (PP) mayor. "No," he replied, "my doctor says Vichy has way too much sodium for my kidneys." Just another casual water conversation.

In Spain, water is more than mere hydration, seemingly meaningless choices could signal your health, your style or your politics. Spaniards consume copious amounts of bottled water and are third in Europe after Italy and Germany spending over €1000 million a year, the equivalent of 126 liters per person.

A very Spanish cross of a botijo and a water bottle

The word agua jovially sprinkles many of our expressions: we say “nunca digas de este agua no beberé” or “never say: I will not drink from this water” to express never say never. In our customary explicit nature we like matters to be “más claro que el agua” or clearer than water. Killjoys or party poopers are called “agua fiestas” (meaning they dilute an otherwise fun party), abstemious people are aguados/as or watery. Like Sancho Panza in “Don Quixote”, Spaniards have an unabated love of proverbs and idioms. They are deployed to reach quick consensus and to be witty.

And while we are besotted with branded bottled water, we also have a reverence for certain cities' tap water and their drinking fountains. For instance, refusing tap water in Madrid is a very different gesture than doing so in Tenerife; madrileños take great pride in their pure water and will remind you incessantly, while on the island of Tenerife, where water sources are shallow and limited, bottled water is the norm.

It also holds inevitable religious weight. For eight hundred years Moorish influence brought not only an alcohol ban but also irrigation systems, cisterns, and an appreciation for cool, flowing water in arid landscaped gardens. If you have visited the Alhambra the clever use of water in its architecture envelops your senses. From our Christian heritage we get holy water associated with purification, cleansing and baptism.

Foreigners seem to have noted our passion for water drinking since the Middle Ages, according to Alfonso Pleguezuelos, an expert on clay vessels and ceramics from the University of Seville in the 15th century, German geographer Hieronymus Münzer noted about Muslim Granada:

“People who live with extreme sobriety drink only water, enjoy excellent health, and are less affected by epidemics than Christians.”

Travelers also commented on our love of perfumed waters both with flowers and with the natural flavors of exotic South American clays in the 17th and 18th century, explains Pleguezuelos. French Baron Davillier in his 1874 travel book on Spain noted madrileños drank copious amounts of water served by street water sellers or aguadores in large glasses. Similarly Théophile Gautier in his 1845 travelogue recorded the aguador chant: “water, water who wants water? Fresh as snow..” and remarked that this particular trade did not exist in Paris.

Seventeenth century aguadores in Seville seem to have used larger glasses than most modern bars. Diego Velázquez, The Water Seller 1620 Wellington Museum, London.

Spend enough time in museums and you'll start spotting alcarrazas, búcaros (both fancy small water clay vessels) and cántaros (large clay jugs used to carry water) everywhere. Long before refrigeration, these insulated vessels kept water cool naturally. Same goes for the botijo, the iconic closed clay jug with a spout, once a humble symbol of rural life it now lives on in our language as a jab at someone overweight. Designers today reimagine it as a sleek hybrid between a traditional botijo and a plastic water bottle which require refrigeration, a perfect ornament for the style-conscious millennial. In modern rural kitchens cántaros in a cantarera or wooden-stand act mostly as interior design whims, a nod to times past.

Francisco de Zurbarán, one of Spain’s key Baroque painters, was especially fond of depicting these vessels as was his son Juan. In their still lifes, the ornate vessels often sit beside chocolate pots, showing water’s everyday presence as the antidote to the terribly cloying chocolate a la taza of the nobility. The variety of designs and decorations in water vessels showcase Golden Age personalisation.

Francisco de Zurbarán, A Cup of Water and a Rose 1630, National Gallery of London symbols of the Virgin Mary’s purity...

Juan de Zurbarán, Still Life with Chocolate 1640. Museum of Fine Arts and Archeology of Besançon. The ornate water bucaro on the right is a tell-tale sign of seventeenth wealthy century influencers....

To navigate life or travel in modern times you need to know the etiquette, brands and cultural quirks behind agua in Spanish life. Ordering it is rarely as simple as saying “una botella de agua.” First, you’ll be asked:

• ¿Con gas o sin gas? (Sparkling or still?)

• ¿Grande o pequeña? (Big or small?)

• ¿Del tiempo o fría? (Room temperature or cold)

• ¿Del grifo? (Tap water?). You are legally allowed to order it in restaurants, but it is often reluctantly served.

Bottled Brand IQ

Like olive oil, wine and football teams, water can show regional allegiance. It can also project your attitude to health: "agua de mineralización débil" (low mineral content water) is not an eccentric whim, it is a sign of being health conscious but discussing brands like Bezoya and Font Vella with the intensity others reserve for Riojas or Riberas is an inevitable symptom of middle-age. Mention “low mineral content” in, say Ireland and someone might think you want a light soda or fizzy drink like Club Orange or TK. While many Spaniards might be aspiring water sommeliers, the more political treat their water choice as a standoff against powerful regions like Catalonia (note the quiet ban on Vichy Catalan in right-leaning central Madrid). Every Spaniard has a preferred brand so I suggest you should make up a convincing regional allegiance or ailment.

discussing brands like Bezoya and Font Vella with the intensity others reserve for Riojas or Riberas is an inevitable symptom of middle-aged

Still Water Brands

Bezoya: Light mineral water, beloved by health-conscious types.
Unfortunately rhymes with a vulgar but extremely popular slang that I will let you search, leading to the inevitable:

“El agua de Lanjarón es buena para el corazón, mientras la de Bezoya es buena para la…”

or “Lanjarón water is good for your heart whereas Bezoya is good for your…”

Now this crude rhyme is part of the TikTok teen (and not so teen) canon.

Lanjarón: Spring water from Sierra Nevada mountains home to the highest peaks in the peninsula. Popular, this proud water from Granada was my mother’s favorite. Her family’s hack was to empty half the content of water from the bottles and lay them on their side in the freezer, wait for them to freeze, take out and then top up with water to sip for as long as the ice lasted. In the summer it was not long. But if you dared to mess with the system by tilting the bottle too much so the ice blocked the mouth entirely, you’d get an ear full and she would take a knife to the bottle’s mouth. My daughters have the same longing for cool mountain water when they fill their bottles with ice cubes before going to school.

Just don’t try ordering it in the North of Spain.

Sant Aniol: Catalan and the only volcanic water in the peninsula with a good lineup of special edition water.

Solán de Cabras: Recognizable blue bottle, stylish and ubiquitous. This water comes from a spring 950 m above sea level in Cuenca where goats used to drink and get magically cured (not what you were expecting no?). Every tourist tries to steal the blue glass bottles from restaurants which have to return them to the bottling plant. The glass bottles are available in Carrefour or El Corte Inglés so no need for the thievery.

Cabreiroá: Galician from a granitic source, increasingly fashionable.

Font Vella: Catalonia’s finest. Low in sodium and yes low mineral content. Best avoided in Castilla-León.

Fuente Liviana: The go-to for baby formula preparation. The name means light fountain.

Sparkling Brands

Magma de Cabreiroá: Sparkling water from Ourense in Galicia. Bottled in black aluminum bottles that make it look like an energy drink made for flamenco dancers. Characterized by natural carbonic gas and bubbles from the interaction with terrestrial magma.

Mondariz: Galicia’s still and sparkling darling. The town also has a very well-known spa.

Vichy Catalán: Fancy, very salty and mineral-rich, comes out hot from the spring at 60 degrees. Sponsor of glamorous events and essential in Barcelona. My fancy friend Elena amateur water sleuth thinks the bubbles are too coarse. Avoid in Madrid in the company of PP voters.

Tap Water

Tap Water (agua del grifo): Excellent in Madrid, Burgos, Segovia, Ávila, and San Sebastián. Available in people’s homes and in water fountains.

In the Spanish Levant or islands, it’s often high in calcium or taste, so bottled water is king unless you are making paella.

Final notes on tap water etiquette: don’t expect ice, thimble-sized tap water glasses are normal (you are not in 17th century Seville) and finally don’t expect a refill.

In Spain agua is not allowed to be just itself. Where it comes from or how we enrobe it in fancy vessels, or encase it in plastic bottles matter. “Is it too mineral, salty, or chalky?” we say behind its back. As a nation we might say we like things as “clear as water” but the truth is far more hazy.