Until, that is, six months later a press release landed on the newdesk at work on February 2, warning of possible nasties in Napier's water and the introduction of chlorine.
The chemical element that appears between fluorine and bromine in the periodic table had followed us to Napier; the second of the twin cities had been bleached.
Our shower and washing machine reeked like a public pool and drinking the water became something to fear.
Thankfully Napier has since returned clear tests and the chlorine has gone.
But in between a couple of take home messages dawned.
During Napier's 'crisis', and due to my kids' (and my own) reaction to the disinfectant, I gathered empty plastic bottles and headed down to Anderson Park's non-chlorinated public taps.
As I filled the first few containers I realised water-fetching was intensely satisfying. It was a foreign endeavour I'd seen only on the glossy pages of National Geographic and Time. It was surprisingly satisfying - and fun to boot.
By heading down there you knew before arriving you were mixing with other chloro-phobes.
Thirsty and thick-as-thieves we swapped chlorine horror stories and swigged from bottles like we'd hiked for miles and stumbled across an oasis. I guess it was the water-cooler effect.
The other water-borne message was the gift of appreciation of water sans this chemical.
Now, every time the tap turns, a household is grateful for the purity of what flows.