Discovering the Andes 13place, not too far from there, maybe one hour's drive,
where one could bathe in warm medicinal waters fed by
volcanic springs, which when coupled with the beauty
and serenity of the countryside, made this an Andes
Shangri-La. It sounded great, so I made plans to go there
that evening.
When he saw how impressed I was by his bike, he said
he wouldn't mind trading it for my car for a day or two.
He also offered to entertain me that evening, but said he
was seeing a couple of girls who had arrived in Huancayo
that day. He suggested a double date with them Satur
day night. The offers sounded great; impossible to
refuse, as I am, number one, a motorcycle freak, and,
number two, always available when it comes to ladies.
Armed with just my toothbrush, shaving gear, Rich
ard's directions and the motorcycle, I headed out for the
hotel at the warm water springs. By the time I got there
it was quite dark, and very cold. I was ready for a good
night's sleep.
Acaya Pacte, population twenty-five, and that's push
ing it, has maybe twelve or fifteen houses in the whole
community. There are two hotels that offer a comfor
table bed, a few thick, coarse wool blankets and a bed
spread. There are no sheets, no heat, and no toilets. A
table and a chair completed the accommodations, but
under the circumstances, I was grateful to have these
offerings. The people were warm and friendly so I felt at
home immediately.
I had just enough strength left to hit the miracle
medicinal waters before retiring for the night. The lady
at the hotel gave me a gas lamp and the keys to a
dilapidated adobe-like bathhouse, located on th e shore of
the Man taro River, just a short distance away. Inside the
bathhouse was a square hole in the ground, maybe six
feet deep and twelve to fifteen feet in length and width,
one wooden bench, and some nails on the wall where I