You know, I just got back from Asunción, Paraguay, and I've got to tell you, a lot of what I thought I knew was just… not right. I mean, before I went, I figured it'd be a quiet, sort of unassuming place, maybe just another stop on the South American trail to check off. But wow, there are definitely some of the best things to do in Asunción that I never saw coming.
This spot? Total surprise.
So, picture this: I'm wandering through the capital, trying to get my bearings. The sky was this weird, hazy blue, kinda like the filters people use on Instagram, but it felt real. I'm meandering through this small park called Plaza de los Heroes—just me and the locals. And let me tell you, I was totally unprepared for the vibe. Everyone was sitting around, laughing, enjoying Paraguayan tereré (which is basically cold yerba mate, and you can't shake that vibrant social aspect of it).
Honestly, I wasn't expecting much of a scene. The parks in most big cities feel… I don't know, curated. Like, people use them but in this organized, almost sterile way. Here, though? It was alive. There was this group of kids playing footy, an old man with a guitar, and sweet scents drifting from a nearby food stand. I found a bench and just sat there for a while, thinking, “Wow, I'm really here.”
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
There was this one afternoon that turned everything around for me. I had a plan—I always do— to kind of check off the main sights, you know? But then I got lost trying to find the National Pantheon of the Heroes. Like, really lost. I ended up in this corner of the city where—go figure—I found amazing street art. You know, those huge murals, vibrant colors, and sometimes even mystical-looking characters? I couldn't stop snapping photos, each one more striking than the last.
And guess what? I met this street artist named Juan. He was all tattooed and could hardly speak English, but we managed to chat for ages. He told me stories about the art scene in Asunción, connection and identity, and grit—real stuff. I don't know why I ended up there, but I felt so connected. That's what travel is about, right? To unexpectedly stumble into conversations that make you rethink everything.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
That same day, I wandered into a little café that I think was called “La Cocinita.” Now, if you've got any sense of direction whatsoever, you're probably thinking, "How does an explorer like you miss a café?" Well, turns out I was trying to follow Google Maps, which can lead you astray in a place like Asunción. I ended up in this tiny side street, and as I walked in, this delightful aroma hit me—like someone was just cooking up a storm.
I ordered some mbeju, which is basically this cheesy, gluten-free pancake thing that I didn't even know I was craving. It was warm and had this crispy texture on the outside, with a gooey cheesy center that just melted in my mouth. I mean, I wanted to take a bite and close my eyes because it was just that good. The owner, this lovely lady named Ana, came over and we started talking about food, family, and life.
Forget the sights; this meal was honestly the highlight. She ended up inviting me back for a cooking lesson, which obviously I couldn't refuse. It was such an unexpected treat, and I left with a full belly and a warm heart.
Wrong turns = right turns
Let's be real, I am a total directions disaster. But these wrong turns in Asunción turned out to be right turns, at least in the emotional sense. I ended up at Mercado 4, where I saw a slice of life that made me feel alive. Picture bustling stalls filled with fresh fruits and veggies, vendors shouting prices over each other, and the constant clinking of pots and pans.
I was initially intimidated; it felt chaotic. But as I wandered around, I noticed all the little moments—like a woman haggling for a perfect avocado, that translator vibe you have when you see someone who seems focused, as if their world is bending around them. It reminded me how timeless these experiences are, the beauty of everyday life.
I picked up some empanadas from a woman whose smile could stop traffic. I asked her what was in them, and she laughed, calling it her ‘secret mix.' Spoiler alert: I loved them. Who doesn't love a culinary mystery?
The people I met along the way
Honestly, the best things to do in Asunción are often about the people you encounter rather than just the sights. I met a college student named Lucas in a bar one evening. He talked passionately about the history of Paraguay, of the struggles his country had been through, and how they've come out strong.
Total history buff, this guy—talking about the Triple Alliance War with such intensity, I was absorbed. Turns out, he was trying to start a local guide business because he believed too many tourists missed out on the real stories behind the beautiful facades. I hung out with him and some other locals all night, and it felt so vibrant, so alive. I never expected Asunción to feel that communal, like everybody was part of a bigger picture.
As I sit here sipping my coffee, I realize I still have the taste of the mbeju on my palate, the laughter of newfound friends echoing in my ears. Maybe some of the best things to do in Asunción are hidden in the cracks of its streets and the smiles of its people. I don't know, I think I came back with more than just memories. It's messy and beautiful, just like those moments I stumbled into.
I might not have seen every monument, but I got a glimpse of a culture that was rich and raw. And honestly? That's what I'll carry forward.
