Pasta...penguins?

We went back to Albertos for pasta last night where I ate most of Julies four cheeses without realizing it. Between the small bottle of red wine, tired muscles and the waiters, I felt a bit like I was in a different world. One of the waiters, a married man, really rubs me the wrong way. Julie and I spoke about how you can often tell, at least in part, how and who people are from first encounters. The other waiter, however, the owners son, is a nice man with big brown eyes and a softer persona. Tonight we are going with him to have drinks at a place that we thought was called Weekend, but is someting indecipherably similar or to a dance club oddly called Cerebro (brain). Tomorrow we are planning to head to Chile but we still need to plan out the details of the trip: Chiloe, an archipelago, if there are penguins, and directly to Pucon, with its sleepy volcano, if they have already migrated.