Perhaps knowing this was a moving day, we were both up early and had a quick breakfast before beginning to pack things away, ready for tonight's hotel.We have wondered whether our motorhome was just too heavy to do high mountain roads and our expectation was unrealistic. However we were approached by the couple who also had a camper van. Initially they wanted to know about transport to Valparaiso by bus, and Joan was able to hand over details with bus numbers, colours, maps and fare prices. But then the conversation got on to more general things. They had hired their vehicle in Argentina and had driven up to the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia (5000m) with no engine problems whatsoever. But they did point out that the vehicle was a Volkswagen (they were from Munich). We said farewell to the Landlady who told us not to hurry and promised we would leave a good review on Facebook. Then it was hitting the road up to Santiago. The route took us through the Casablanca valley and passed the Vinamar winery, where its grand, white hacienda stands out amidst pristine lines of vines. We had a lovely lunch there once on a tour from Valparaiso. The guide was a former member of the Chilean navy and let's say, not a leftista. Though our politics might not have been the same, he was very supportive when we wanted to linger over lunch. It was a beautiful location on a terrace overlooking the vines, and Casablanca white wine is superb. The other family on our trip didn't drink wine (in a winery?) and wanted to leave earlier than scheduled.Though we still have the motorhome for one more night, we decided to book into the Diego de Almagro chain again so we could have a civilised stay before the flight.We decided to eat out again and ordered a taxi for Providencia and the El Heurto restaurant. Let's say the ride in was interesting, at break neck speeds along the expressway. We were grateful for hitting rush hour traffic but then got caught in a jam in the subterranean underpass which runs several kilometres under the city. It was carbon monoxide laden and stifling hot.Dropped off we had booked a table on the pavement where we could watch all the well-heeled Chileans pass by.Joan managed to text our driver Julio to pick us up and another crazy journey ensued.Back at the hotel we tried to do on-line check-in for our flight but though all our details were entered, it kept refusing to book us in. Not sure if this is a good sign.
POSTSCRIPT: We got on the plane. It was the Dreamliner on one of the first direct flights between Santiago and London. The longest haul flight in the world at 14 and a half hours.