So, I just got back from La Paz, and wow, if you're looking for the best things to do in La Paz, let me tell you, it's like flipping through a weird photo album you didn't know you needed. I mean, I didn't go in with huge expectations—yeah, I was excited, but mostly I just wanted to wander and see where the day took me.
This spot? Total surprise.
Let me start off with a little sidebar. You know how when you get to a new city, there's always that moment of doubt, like, “Did I make a mistake coming here?” That hit me hard when I first stepped off the bus. I mean, wow—the altitude. Seriously, I felt like I'd just climbed a mountain, and I had barely exited the station. My head started spinning a little, and all I could think was, “Did I really consult the Internet enough for this trip? Am I ready?”
But then, I wandered into the Witches' Market. Full of incense and kind of a chaotic energy, this spot was wild. Honestly, at first glance, I thought it'd just be a tourist trap, you know? But I was proven wrong. Vendors were selling everything from herbal remedies to colorful textiles, and there were these amazing little potions promising all sorts of miracles. I watched a woman haggle over a llama fetus—way more than I bargained for, to say the least. But then I stumbled upon a tiny stall with handmade pottery. It was all earthy colors and had so much character! I picked up this tea cup that just had this warm vibe to it. It was surprisingly deep, you know? Just an unexpected find on a day I wasn't sure about.
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
So, later on, I found myself at Plaza Murillo. Picture it: I'm sitting there with a cup of tea from that pottery shop, just soaking it all in. The sun was out, and I felt this warm glow kick in. I was surrounded by locals, kids were running around, and the authenticity of the whole scene—it sort of hit me like a wave. It was like I finally got why people rave about La Paz.
And then, out of nowhere, these musicians set up nearby. They started playing traditional Bolivian tunes, and even better, some dancing sprang up—couples just letting loose with smiles that were as big as the Andes. I don't know if it was the altitude or the tea, but it felt liberating, like I was finally shedding some of my own worries. I almost forgot I had come here in the first place.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
And then, let's talk about my disastrous sense of direction. I had read that Valle de la Luna was cool, but did I Google Maps it properly? Absolutely not. I ended up wandering through a residential neighborhood thinking, “Yeah, this will take me directly to one of Bolivia's natural wonders.” Spoiler: it didn't. I stopped for directions at a little café, and out came the friendliest barista. He didn't just point me in the right direction; he insisted on giving me a slice of his mom's cake while I waited.
It was this zesty lemon cake, moist and sweet, that somehow transformed my annoyed energy into something lighter. After a few laughs and exchanged Spanish phrases that made me laugh because I totally butchered them, he drew a little map on a napkin, and I was back on my way. Honestly, I was grateful for the detour. That little interaction felt like a mini victory. Yes, I had strayed far from my path, but sometimes the best memories come from those unexpected stops, don't you think?
The meal that left a mark
But let's get to the food, shall we? You know how people say street food is where the magic is? I finally caved and tried salteñas, which, if you've never had one, you're seriously missing out. They're like Bolivian empanadas but with this glorious, juicy filling. I found this tiny street corner where this abuela was working her magic, hardly looking up as she rolled out dough and filled them like a pro. I stood in line, the sweet, savory aroma luring me in.
When I finally took a bite—yeah, it was pretty darn good. There was this explosion of flavor, and I swear I went right back to being that little kid who's just blissfully lost in a world of taste. I probably looked ridiculous because I was trying to wipe the sauce from my chin while still savoring every last bite. Total snack moment.
Halfway through, I struck up a conversation with another traveler—it turns out he was a photographer who had come all the way from Brazil. We started chatting, jumped between topics of travel, culture, and our mutual appreciation for messy, flavorful food. We left as friends, a spontaneous connection forged over shared flavors, and that was definitely one of my favorite little moments.
Just rolling with it
The moments that stand out for me are those chaotic, unplanned ones. Yes, the iconic sights had their own shine, but it's these human experiences—the surprises, the wrong turns—weaving together like a complex tapestry. Sure, I got lost more times than I'd like to admit, and I probably have about a hundred blurry pictures of streets, but La Paz had a pulse—an unfiltered life that I can still feel buzzing through me.
So, the best things to do in La Paz? Sometimes, forget about the must-dos and lean into the unplanned adventures. Whether you end up in the Witches' Market, at a random barista's café, or sharing a salteña with a stranger, that's where the real stories hide, like little treasures waiting to be discovered.
And as I sip my last bit of coffee, I realize that this trip felt like a page in my life that I'm still kind of digesting. It's a tangled mess, just like the roads I walked down—beautiful in its imperfections.
