Gennie from the box

First it was Gennie from the Cage. But the little super-silent power behind the creation of endless milkshakes, hot chocolates and fairy light configurations seemed all wrong for the old contraption. That had been built to keep the Big 6.5kva Beast (inherited from Eddie) at bay. The new generator, I finally decided, needed something a little more elegant to house…’her’. A market trader buddy of mine recommended Steve down in Shooters Hill…and therein started off the most classic case of ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’.

I wanted a stainless steel number, with a roller mechanism whereby you could take the entire shelf off, with the generator on it, thus losing unwanted space for festival pitches, etc (and also so as to be able to open the rear doors and retrieve all manner of treasures lost down the back during enthusiastic milkshake sessions). ‘Yep, no problem’ said Steve and then proceeded to take the most unimaginable length of time to produce the thing.

When it finally arrived (after one aborted attempt at delivery involving a crucial section not having been welded properly…and near destruction of the long-anticipated masterpiece) it was the most beautifully constructed little box you ever saw. Bits flipped up here and hinged over there, holes were strategically placed, air vents in place and the whole thing shimmered and seemed right at home bolted onto Jimmy’s rear bumper.

And then I used it. We had a job to do for a store in town. The staff had all been working super hard and needed treats. I baked Black & White cupcakes, Millionaire’s shortbread and some chocolate chip cookies, loaded in the ice cream, fired up the gennie and off we went. Further into our journey, as the record-breaking April heat beat down on us, so, unfortunately, was it beating down on the steel cage. There wasn’t exactly an explosion but there might have been one if I hadn’t heard the choked, rasping sounds of the little caged gennie gasping for help from its hot hellish box.

I managed to style it out and carry on, no harm done to the ice cream thanks to my very handy eutectic plates in the freezer. But now, as I investigate further, not only will I have to impale the box with a series of heat rescuing holes, but the gennie is absolutely screwed. It sounds like a dying tiger, belching out pained involuntary growls. And the only person who can fix it is in Nottingham.

Did I ever mention that these sort of problems are not in any way my bag? What I need is a little practical person living in the corner cupboard of the van and who comes with me wherever I go, drilling holes and fixing stuff along the way. If anyone knows someone….?