Meltdown at Old Hartley

I haven't explained why I curtailed the Northumbrian part of my recent holiday. The story is this.

During the second day at Old Hartley in Northumberland it seemed to me that something was amiss with my fridge-freezer. The fridge wasn't as cool as it should be, nor was the stuff in the freezer as rock-hard frozen as usual. Well, the site was full up and it was summer - that could mean, on an older site anyway, that the shared electrical supply might not be quite as good as usual. Kettles might take longer to boil. And fridges wouldn't be as cold unless you turned the coldness setting up. I did that. But, returning in the early evening, I noticed no great difference.

Next morning (on my third day there) it was clear that I had a meltdown on my hands. A defrost had set in. The fridge-freezer was part of my caravan's original equipment, and therefore going on for twelve years old. It might well have reached the end of its working life. It would spoil my holiday to be without a fridge-freezer. I was geared up to cooking all my meals in the caravan, which required storing a quantity fresh foodstuffs in a cold space. Enough for three or four days. I could of course go shopping every day instead, but that would be an absolute bind. Nor did I have a budget for eating out every single evening.

I was a long way from Sussex, and had more than half my holiday yet to come. It would be massively inconvenient and annoying to be without a means of keeping milk and food cold. I decided to cut the holiday short and go home.

So before going out on the third day - I had long arranged to see a friend for that entire day - I cancelled my forward site bookings, and just set up a single night at Stamford, as an overnight stop on the long journey back to Sussex.

But while out on that third day, an idea occurred to me. Caravan fridge-freezers were very simple beasts, with almost nothing to go wrong. There was no kind of motor or pump in them, because they had to be silent in operation in the confined interior of the caravan, and in any case cope with jolting and other movement while towing. They used electricity or gas to set up a passive cooling cycle that gradually extracted heat and let it drift away outside through grilles on the side of the caravan. This was thermostatically controlled.

Now (I thought from time to time during the day) suppose that thermostat wasn't broken, merely temporarily unable to do its stuff? There was something at the back of the freezer - a kind of dark metallic knob, whose purpose had remained unknown to me all these years - that might be the thermostat. The freezer was closely packed with packets of meat and fish I'd made up at home. What if a wrapping had somehow covered the thermostat, sealing it off, and made it 'think' that the freezer as a whole was very cold, when in fact it mostly wasn't at all? (And where the freezer led, the rest of the fridge followed, so that everything was warming up)

Another point. As I had locked up to go out, I had run my fingers over the exterior grille. I definitely felt some warm air. That surely meant the fridge-freezer wasn't dead. It was still working, albeit below par.

Once home, I emptied the freezer to see whether the situation was as I thought. And I was right.

Somehow a plastic food bag had stuck itself over what I took to be the thermostat, sealing it in. It was sampling only a tiny bit of freezer airspace, and erroneously deciding that it was cold enough. I peeled away this plastic bag. In fact I took out everything, transferring the things I could eat within a day or two into the fridge section, and binning the rest. It wasn't actually a serious financial hit: maybe just £20 worth of this and that lost.

Before I went to bed, I noticed a difference. It was definitely colder in the fridge, and in the freezer things were getting arctic again.

Problem solved, then! I could carry on with my holiday. Except that I'd already cancelled it all. I'd have to get up to the Old Hartley site office first thing next morning, and see if I could have my five cancelled nights back. then reinstate the other bookings.

I was too late. My pitch was now allocated to new arrivals, and I'd have to move on, cutting short my Northumbrian holiday. Back at the caravan, I did what I could to salvage my original plans. A lengthy session on the Club website. I'd have to forego the Peak District and the Cambridge area. I could have a few more days at Stamford instead. I consoled myself with the thought that I was saving money by lopping a week or more off my original holiday. And in any case, the threat of a big expense - a new fridge-freezer once home - was lifted!

I could still have five nights at my next destination, Bridlington, as first intended - but it would come sooner.

I dare say that 'true caravanners' of the Old School will scoff at my running for home, just because I thought my fridge-freezer had packed in. I don't care. I expect luxury on my holidays - well, comfortable living, anyway, with all appliances working properly. I am not going to rough it. My caravan is a mobile hotel room, not an endurance capsule. I am not on holiday to test myself in any way: I want a hassle-free time. So, let 'em scoff.