Hot Springs, Hot Women

I can’t believe it’s been more than a fortnight since my last post.  RVing is a busy lifestyle, especially when it entails seeing relatives and friends along with the travelling and sightseeing. 

Since the Squawk (our tornado/severe weather warning radio for those who have not read my last post) emitted its warning screeches whilst we were in Hot Springs, we have traveled a further 600 miles westwards, through south west Arkansas, southern Oklahoma, and into the Texas panhandle.  

Squawk has remained silent as we have not reprogrammed it to the various counties we have traveled through. We have been watching the weather on our phone app, however, and endured some more thunderstorms, and average daytime temperatures of 80 degrees Farenheit ( 27 Centrigrade), and night time temperatures of about 55 degrees F (13 C).

Around 143 F/62 C is the temperature of the hot waters that are propelled to the surface of an area of Arkansas now called Hot Springs, located within the Ouachita Mountains, are.  This area became the oldest Federal Reserve in the United States, and in its heyday was nicknamed the “American Spa”, trying to emulate the spa towns of Europe.  Today its former bathhouses and the land and gardens once walked on for health purposes, are preserved as Hot Springs National Park. 

The perceived healing properties of the hot spring water were discovered centuries ago by native Americans. By the 19^th century, it was believed the waters benefited diseases of the skin and blood, nervous affections, rheumatism and kindred diseases, and the "various diseases of women".

Today, much of Hot Springs' history is preserved via Bathhouse Row,  

the eight historic bathhouse buildings and gardens along Central Avenue and also contains dozens of historic hotels built during the Great Depression in the art deco style. 

These are still open, as are two bath houses which are popular today for bathing and spa treatments.

We spent a fascinating hour or two walking around the old Fordyce Bathhouse Museum, being transported back to Edwardian times, among the various machinery designed to massage and heal.   They even had a lift bath for the infirm,

and all manner of electric massage machines, (no incidences of electrocution reported!) although these fell into disrepute in the 1930’s and were replaced by manual massage. 

I was tickled to find that health was not necessarily the most important item on people’s agenda when they visited Hot Springs.  Here is what I found in one of the display cases… once male visitors have arrived and checked in at the bath house of their choosing, and had a good look at women in the area, it seems there generally followed these activities:

There were even separate courts on the roof for sunbathing. 

Obviously, where there are hot women, lustful men with all their testosterone will follow, so unsurprisingly, during the 20^th century, the city and its waters were home to Major League Baseball spring training, illegal gambling, speakeasies and gangsters such as Al Capone, horse racing and… drum roll please… 42nd American President, Bill Clinton.

www.nps.gov/hosp

Once we had visited Bath Row, Richard nearly had a heart attack climbing all 227 steps up the observation tower on the top of the hill above Bathhouse Row on the Federal Reserve. I took the elevator (lift) of course, (being a sensible hot woman and not a he-man).

The surrounding area of Hot Springs also became used for recreational purposes and the two lakes, Catherine and Hamilton, are popular holiday destinations. That afternoon we visited Garvan Woodland Gardens, www.garvangardens.org but we arrived at the end of tulip season and not much else was blooming as spectacularly as the brochures touted, other than the azaleas.  

I was very impressed by their peacocks,

though, and the fairy village carved out of wood.

The day after the storms hammered poor Benny and the Jet, the warm rain merely fell straight down in gentle fashion, so we went to the Mall and then the movies, and saw The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel which was quite apt as it showed how men will continue to chase women no matter what their age.  By the next morning the Squawk had fully served its purpose, and Richard and I again became more active, walking the gentle trails of Lake Catherine State Park, and bagged our own waterfall.  (You can read about waterfall bagging in Arkansas here). 

Throughout these three days, we seemed to be stalked by three women.  We first encountered them several times in Garvan Woodland Gardens, but thought no more about it because it is an enclosed area so the chances of passing the same people along its winding paths are pretty good.  However, when we saw them in the mall and the movie theater, we thought it was rather a coincidence.  Now, I know that coincidences can be explained… just like the fact that there was a Corvette Exhibition on in Hot Springs that weekend explained why we kept seeing restored Corvette cars of all colors and styles driving through the streets.  The rain would send everyone to the Mall and the movie theater, wouldn’t it?

But when we encountered them again that same evening first on our way into a restaurant, and then an hour later in the Ohio Club (a bar that was once an illegal casino and the haunt of Mae West and her gangster lover), I suspected these were hot women pursuing Richard.  After all we know what charm Richard has with the ladies (you can read about his previous exploits with a table full of women here).

So I confronted them. 

It turned out they were three sisters originating in Arkansas, two of whom had moved to various other States, and had reunited in a condo at Lake Catherine for a girly few days to celebrate one of their birthdays.  Richard regaled them with his usual jokes and charming banter, and we, the women, had a great evening, drinking cocktails and listening to a live band.  It was Richard’s turn to drive, but when I saw the green corvette 

behind the man in the white suit who seems to sit permanently on a bench outside the Ohio Club, I accosted him in the hope that he might take me for a spin.

An old woman has to take her chances, after all.  Unfortunately I wasn’t hot enough to warm up his cold gangster bronze heart.