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A Taoist Adventure

The source of the indoor hot springs filtered in from somewhere along the river beneath the ground, perhaps a natural spring fed by the mountain. Wherever it came from, it was hot, and we had the entire pool to ourselves for two hours before returning to a civilized version of reality. One thing was for sure—we would sleep like babies once we hit the pillow.

Across the street from the springs, a dance/exercise program was in session. It was still so hot and so muggy the sweat seemed to ooze from ever pour, even as the sun set. A couple from the tour recognized us, getting Lizzy’s attention. What were the odds? While Lizzy chatted, I wandered over to the edge of the river, watching two boys jump off a primitive looking Chinese wooden boat, laughing, chasing each other in the filthy brown water. 

Making our way back toward the train station, we crossed paths with two others from the tour. What were the odds of crossing paths with two different groups three times in one day, a thousand to one? 

Seating availability for the return trip was zero. Lizzy didn’t seem to care, however, dragging me, pushing her way through every car until she found two empty in the upper deck.

No ticket collectors surfaced to reprimand us.  However the continuous icy cold air bellowing through, compared to a meat locker and having sucked up the sweltering hot temperatures of the day, perhaps this was some odd alternative of making us suffer. 

Although a peculiar and strange day, it was, nonetheless a perfect day. Perhaps there was something to the legend of the wishing well after all.

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