Cooper shook his head. "Afraid not. Got onto a bus right out of the airport, dropped off just down the hill from here. I was gawking at the scenery all the way, but not paying attention, know what I mean? I wouldn't be able to retrace my steps." He picked a roll from the basket on the table, tore off a chunk and snerked. "Guess I should have dropped a trail of crumbs."<br/><br/>He paid about as much attention to his menu as Sarah had to hers. It was his custom - almost a game, in fact - when faced with a selection of tapas to pick them like lottery numbers, just making two or three finger jabs at the menu without looking at it. The results were usually palatable; once or twice they had verged on tragic, but then just as often had yielded bliss that approached Zen enlightenment. So when the time came to make his choice, he simply poked that, that, and that, and would let the outcome be a surprise.<br/><br/>"So," he continued, "It looks like we'll be on an expedition. Best pack along some bottles of water, maybe take a walking stick. If we get really lost, what the heck. It's warm, we can camp out in a park or something until a Saint Bernard finds us."