When he stepped outside, the heat of the noonday sun hit Carter in the face like a blast of hot air from a just-opened oven. It was a bright, clear day with only the hint of a breeze, and a thin sheen of perspiration immediately came to his forehead. Carter brushed it away with the back of his hand, slipped on a pair of sunglasses, and started off down the sidewalk, keeping to the shadowed side of the street as he went. As hungry as he felt at the moment, he was in no hurry to sit alone again in a restaurant, so he stopped at the first open bar he came to and bought a prosciutto and provolone panino—as close to a ham and cheese sandwich as he could find—a packet of cookies, and a large bottle of water. These he tucked into his daypack before setting off again to find a pleasant spot where he might sit and eat his lunch.

Carter meandered his way through the city, familiarizing himself with the local landmarks as he went so he could find his way back later. He took particular care to stay on the sidewalk whenever possible, for it had not escaped his notice that pedestrians were a much-endangered species on the streets of Rome. In the short while since he left the hotel, Carter had more than once found himself springing back from a curb’s edge to avoid impatient motorists zooming by who apparently did not take kindly to anyone impeding their forward progress. Car horns blared constantly, often at the last instant, to warn those on foot out of the way. Watching them careen by, he had the distinct impression that Italian drivers, or at least those in Rome, took pleasure in seeing just how close they could come to a person without actually running him over.

At last Carter made it safely to the entrance of the Villa Borghese, one of Rome’s largest public parks. Relieved to get away from the traffic and the noise, he ambled straight into the heart of the wooded area and looked about for a suitable tree to sit beneath. An enormous oak just ahead looked like a prime spot, and soon Carter was sitting against its base, enjoying the cool of the shade while he ate his panino. When he had gobbled down the last of it, he opened the bottle of water, stretched out his legs, and settled back against the tree for a time to watch the people coming and going through the park. It was just then, as he was taking a swig of water, that a sign pointing the way to the Bioparco, the Rome zoo, caught his eye. A visit to the zoo had not been on his itinerary for that day, but then again, his itinerary for the entire trip was very much in flux, so he capped his bottle, collected his things, and set off to see the animals.