pumpkinstrokemarrow

Back at the library of the regional capital of the west, that it to say Exeter, having cycled up the cycle path up the river again. Cycle number 2 (retentive readers will remember that cycle number 2 is a classy if elderly road racer) more or less OK after having been in the garage for some months. One tyre a bit flat and the bell needed oiling, although I did not discover this until I was well up the river, trying to attract the attention of a family of three (or possibly four, there was a small (male) outrider out ahead) out for a two wheeled poodle. But the attempt was successful, with their pulling up at the side of the path while I passed. Including the outrider when his turn came. Pleased to be part of the cycling heavy gang fraternity. That apart, no livestock worthy of notice, not even a cormorant sitting on the weir at the start of the ship canal.

The challenge this morning has been the regional boiler, a shiny new Worcester from British Gas.

The arrangement for the one in Epsom is that there is a thermostat on the wall in the hall hard wired to a digital control unit on a wall next to the boiler itself in the kitchen. The basic idea of this last is that hot water is on for two periods a day and heating is on for two periods a day, with one being able to select differant periods for each day, should you be fussy about such things. Bath after Coronation Street on Thursdays but bath before Crossroads on Saturdays sort of thing. And then there are various overrides, like turn the hot water on or turn the heating off. We also have such threats to health and safety as a hot water tank in an airing cupboard and fumes which go up the chimney. As I have moaned before, since British Gas installed this boiler, they have changed the rules, just to make sure we buy a new one before too long. But although the control unit is a bit fiddly, BH has kept hold of the instructions through thick and thin and the thing does do what it says on the tin, that is to say on the instructions.

The regional arrangement is quite differant. There is indeed a thermostat on the wall in the hall, but the thermostat is also a battery powered electro-mechanical device which sends commands by radio to the boiler in the kitchen (which sends its fumes through the wall into the drive). There are accessible controls on the boiler. There are also thermostats on all the radiators which can override a turn heating on command from the thermostat (but not a turn heating off command. I guess we have to live with this, given that heat is distributed by hot water by pump and the boiler does not have a cold water option). The electro-mechanical device is, in very important ways, a throw back to our controller of thirty years ago, in that it contains a clock wheel equiped with radial sliders, one for each 15 minutes in the 24 hours. Pushing in says that 15 minutes counts as day, pulling out says it counts as night. Then one sets a temperature setting for day on a little thumb wheel and one for night on another. Hot water available all the time on demand. All sounds fine now we have got the hang of it although it did take some time to switch from the Surrey to the Devon concept of heating and we did have to have the thing replaced last Autumn, last time we were down.

So turn up on a cool April afternoon to a rather cool house. BH wants some heat. I says, sez I, just crank the day temperature up a bit on the control unit and bobs your uncle. But uncle was not playing. An hour later radiators still stone cold. Temperature at BH rising and all three of us start playing with all the various controls at the same time. After a while we discover that an interesting light in the boiler is flashing continuously. Manual says that this means that the boiler has lost contact with its controller in the hall. Communications down. So we try pressing the override button, thoughtfully provided against the very remote possibility of failure. Downstairs radiators come to life. After further flapping around we discover that the upstairs radiators have all been turned off at their own personal thermostatic controls. Fix that, off to the pub for a few Doombars while we watch the local twenty somethings playing darts and so happily to bed.

Wake up in the morning to a cold BH who has completely failed to run a hot bath. Hot water not on demand at all. Ah well sez I, the thing is a flow heater and you must have been trying to run the hot water too fast, when, naturally, it will become cold water. BH not appeased but tries again with the same result. Then I try. And even I fail to do better than slowly flowing water which is sometimes hot and sometimes cold.

At this point, by some happy coincidence, we are phoned up by a computer in the British Gas control centre which confirms that a gas man is coming to see us the next day, as arranged some weeks ago, in the interests of regular service. After a short family conference we decide to phone the number the computer has given us to say that this is not good enough. Go through the usual palaver, a little more sophisticated than in Surrey in the sense that I talk to the computer rather than keying in lots of digits from my last bill (assuming that I can find it). Eventually get through to a person and suggest that the gas man visits us today rather than tomorrow. Explain that we have some heating and some hot water but not enough of either. After a lot of sucking of thumbs, the person suggests that someone comes this afternoon. And that without playing the elderly parent card, although our card at the control centre ought, already, be marked to that effect. So fair enough. They have advanced our visit by 18 hours at very short notice. Perhaps we will get the very pleasant and helpful chap, well used to dealing with the elderly, that we had last time. (Shame that the thing broke down again).

My present take is that this fine Worcester boiler has too many customer accessible controls for its own good. We will see what I think tomorrow.