Waterworks Issues at Devizes

 I got suckered.  Herself dragged me along to 3aaa's just before Christmas under the pretense of "just looking" and a breakfast in their excellent cafe.

Parking up and I feel something is off as she makes a bee line for a particular van.  I'll admit it ticks all the boxes for us except one .... we've no intention of changing for another year,

Over breakfast she lets on she wants to speak to someone about money, and while I'm still mopping up egg yolk she's going into a small room with a young man.

He's smiling doing the sums as I burst in through the door with egg yolk drying in my goatee, not because of the yolk but because he knows he's got Herself where he wants her.

I say we'll think about it.  He smiles as he knows we'll be back.  He was right, and before we can get to the car herself is dragging me to have another look.  I know which way this is heading as we've been married close on 34 years, so admit defeat without extending the charade any further.  Mr Salesman is not budging on the numbers either, which is somewhat frustrating.

Wind forward one week to 20th December, on their last day of opening before the Christmas break, and we're pulling out through the gates with our heavily discounted (though not as heavily as I'd hoped) Coachman VIP 675.

Thursday 22 January

Firing up the weather forecast does nothing to improve my mood after looking out of the window.

I have a moan on Facebook and Nursey comes straight at me with "When has the weather ever bothered you?"

She's right of course, and I peel myself off the sheets to have a shower.  Herself is sat waiting, fully clothed having loaded all our clothes into Trude as well as receiving our food shop deliver from Morrisons.

She has plans for this morning and is getting impatient with my lazy arse.  We take a spin down to Pembrey Country Park to give the dogs a bloody good walk before returning to the storage Yard to empty Trude into the van, hitch up and hit the road.

The roads are good and the wheels didn't stop turning except for a brief stop off to purchase some wholesome goodness from the golden arches at Magor Services.

I incur the wrath of Heir In Charge because I didn't wait to be escorted around to our paddock, so much so that in her temper she wouldn't wait for us to decide which pitch we wanted, and stormed back to her observation tower, muttering something under her breath.

Set up didn't take too long, and we're able to announce to Facebookville that "We is Arrived."

Well almost anyway. Electric plugged in, waste set up, toilet set up and I turn my attention to the water.  We're fully serviced this weekend, so set the hose up, put the float in the Aquaroll and set it to go. Inside the van I shut down the water dump valve, close all the taps and turn the water pump on.

The pump whines into life as I set about priming the system, only it doesn't stop whining and I can't get any water pressure through the hot water system.

I try again, and again, and again.  I'm also concerned now about the Alde system so scroll through the menu to turn off Hot Water as I don't want the elements blowing in that.  We'd been warned during the farcical handover that Alde takes some time to heat up, but having been on  a few hours the internal temperature still hasn't risen above 19 degrees.

I have one more go at priming the system before we turn off the water pump at the main, shutting up shop and heading up to The Three Magpies for a drink and bite to eat.

We take a table in front of the log burner while I try my best to relax and forget our water works problems.  The Cruzcampo and Whitebait did the job, and I'm in a better place altogether as we open the van door into a wall of heat.  At least the Alde is working properly!

I have another go at releasing what I think is an air lock, with no success.  I give it up as a bad job before filling up a container with fresh water, turning off the pump and going to bed.

Friday 23 January

Tossed and turned for most of the night.  Van was too hot and I was fretting about the water situation.

I get up and decide to start from scratch but no matter how many times I try we still can't get hot water to the taps and the pump won't stop running.  Herself is also on here phone flicking through the forums - try this, try that.

We tried them all.  I even downloaded the Owner's Manual from the internet.  Turns out you can buy a £38k caravan these days but they won't give you a paper manual!!

 I even tried recalibrating the pump pressure!

I get on the blower to 3aaa and they promise to get one of the techies to ring me back.  While waiting I have another few goes, and both Gwawr and Gwen and starting to sense my mood changing!

Within half an hour my phone lights up.

We first establish what van we have, what heating system and what water system.  I then talk through the problem with him in detail.  A brief pause follows before ...

"Is the Aqualroll full?"

"Yes we are fully serviced this weekend."

"Is the pump plugged fully in?"

"Yes, the pump is running and won't stop."

"Have you closed the water dump valves?"

"Of course I have, I've done all thi ...... Hang on .... valves, as in plural?"

"Yes, you've got 2 or 3 on that van."

As instructed I go under the front bench with a torch, and staring me in the face (now I'm looking for it) is a 2nd dump valve for the hot water system fully open.  I flick it shut and try the 3 hot water taps one by one, each gushing a stream of water.  The pump even turns off after the predicted 10 seconds overrun.

"Thankyou very much, that seems to have done the trick." I say as Imagine him strutting back into the workshop laughing "You'll never guess what this plank I was just talking to has done!"

Nelson and Roids bought me this mug around 13 years ago, and it's been with us in our caravans ever since.  Never has it been more apt than this morning.

The dogs are getting impatient now and Herself takes them to sort themselves out while I have a quick shower before picking them up on the way out of the site.

I fancy a quick look around Bath, especially as I've found out that the clean air zone does not apply to private cars.  We park up underground in Podium Car Park and head off for a bit of a mooch.

Bath is very easy on the eye, and we walk down passed Bath Abbey and round onto Grand Parade to have a look over to The Rec and the weir on the River Avon.

The wind is biting and I suggest diving into The Architect for a warm and a drink.

Very pleasant it was too sat in the warmth of the conservatory watching the world go by.  So pleasant in fact that we stopped for a light lunch.  Back outside we continue the mooch, along Cheap St (rather ironically named given the prices in the shop windows) down Stall Street where Herself had a look in the Roman Baths gift shop and then stopping briefly to watch the street entertainer in Kingston Parade.

The rest of the afternoon was spent back on site chilling and getting used to the van, it's starting to feel like ours now, and we didn't move for the rest of the day.

Saturday 24 January

Had a rough night last night, spending quite a bit of it sleeping sat on a toilet over the block. Morning arrived by getting slightly less dark, and the weather is as rough as my guts; with the forecast that was posted on Wednesday appearing to be a complete work of fantasy.

Braving the elements I take to dogs over to the adjacent field to sort themselves out, and it's decidedly moist underfoot.

After a breakfast of Imodium and oats we head off out for a spin, deciding that much of today will be spent looking at the world through Trude's dirty windows.  We head cross country through Westbury, passing the signs for the White Horse.  We've been up there before and it's a little exposed, so didn't bother.

We follow the roads towards Frome, having been there a few times before when we stopped at Longleat many years ago.  Now I realise we didn't see it in its best light with the weather being so poor, but let's just say, like many other towns across England and Wales, the years have not been kind to Frome.

We carried on, driving about 70 miles in total before the weather started to ease off a little.

The one and only Dan Trudgeon had pinged me yesterday, recommending a visit to the historic market town of Corsham. Like Lacock nearby, Corsham has been the filming location for many TV series such as Blake 7, Tess of the D'Ubervilles, Wives and Daughters as well as Poldark.

Enroute we ping Brooks on Tour, who live very close to here to see if they fancy meeting for a quick catchup.

We're a bit peckish now, and after using 'our' blue badge for free parking at the High Street Car Park we head straight inside The Methuan Arms.  We pass numerous little bars and dining rooms with customers tucking into plates of goodness, and I'm looking forward to a decent lunch now my guts have settled down.

We take a table in the front bar and I try get get someone's attention.

"Do you serve food in this bar?"

"Pardon?"

The young girl is struggling with my West Wales accent and calls someone else over.

"Do you serve food in this bar?"

"Yes we do."

"Great, can I have a menu please."

"Usually."

"What do you mean usually?"

"One of our ovens has just gone pop and the kitchen has closed for any more orders."

She says as a waitress walks into the room with two steaming plates of Steak Pie and chips.

This lunch I say to Herself as I plonk a few ciders and packets of crisps on the table.

Another few meals come out and we've had enough of being tortured, sink our ciders and head outside onto High St to see what Corsham has in store for us.

I've not watched any of the above mentioned programs but what a pretty sleepy little town it is, when I say sleepy I mean closed on a Saturday afternoon!

A Peacock is strutting its stuff as we browse the Estate Agent's windows onto the end where all of the buildings look like they'd have been part of a TV filming set at some point.

With Corsham being closed we head back to Trude and take the dogs for a quick off lead stretch on the path into Corsham Court.

No word from the Brooks so we head back to Trude and make tracks closer to home and The Barge Inn for a very late lunch.  We've not long taken a canal side table when my phone pings.

"Are you still in Corsham?  We've only just seen the message."

"No sorry, we're at The Barge Inn now."

"Don't move! We're on our way."

The Brooks join us for a good catch up, and if you're part on the online caravanning community your ears would have been burning as we waffled away.

Back on site we settle down and as I sit back lounging on the bench I think "Yes this is starting to feel like ours now.  Like home."

Herself presents me with a little treat she had procured for me in Bath yesterday, a small bottle of caramel rum.  Lovely and smooth it was too, but at just 25% proof the rest was taken straight over ice.

Not a late one tonight, and we're cwtched up in bed as the rain hammered on the roof.

Sunday 25 January

I stir at 8.15am, look outside and it's stopped raining.  We have a cuppa before starting to break camp and are rolling out of site by 9.15am.

Empty roads contribute to a relaxed tow home, so relaxed in fact Herself used the time wisely to get a shopping order in to be delivered later on today.

In what seems like no time at all we've completed the 118 mile tow and are pulling through the gates into our storage facility.

We didn't do much while away, but that wasn't the intention.  This was a "Shakedown" trip.  After making a fool twat of myself on Friday all appears to be working OK.  We've a small list of snags that I'll be bringing to the attention of the dealer this week, but all else is good.