Splishing and splashing
Four days with a sick Louis and we decided it was time for kill or cure. After skipping Durango, the next stop on the road was Pagosa Springs, a ski town famed for its hot, you guessed it, springs. I'd always been curious about the alleged healing properties of thermal waters and with all three of us now ailing I figured there'd never be a better time to put them to the test.
At $20 bucks a person, a soak in the thermal pools wouldn't come cheap but if it saved us from an American doctor's bill then it would be worth it. We weren't sure how many of the pools would pass the elbow-in-the-bath test, but apparently if we chose ones less than 101F (whatever that means in celsius) then Louis would survive. So, ignoring the snow on the ground, we stripped down to our swimmers and plunged in.
All that practice splashing in our DC swimming pool paid off: Louis loved it, despite the rotten egg stench. Come to think of it, given some of his diapers he's probably quite used to the smell of rotten eggs. And the best bit about it? After splashing happily for half an hour, we persuaded him to conk out poolside in his stroller for a snooze while we had a nice quiet soak.
Good medicine? It was too early to tell but at the very least we set off slightly rejuvenated on the road for New Mexico.