The capital of South America’s poorest country seems an unlikely stop for globetrotting food pilgrims. But Claus Meyer, co-owner of Copenhagen’s Noma restaurant, is set on changing that. In April he opened Gustu, a haute dining spot that will cook only with ingredients grown or produced in Bolivia. For $135, diners can enjoy 15 courses paired with Bolivian wines. Dishes may include llama shoulder, poached in butter for 14 hours, and vicuña (similar to alpaca) jerky with hearts of palm, egg, and fried trout roe. The restaurant’s cooking school will train 30 low-income students each year. Photo courtesy of Stephan Gamillscheg/Ibis. This appeared in the June/July 2013 issue.

Bolivia's alpine salt flats of the Salar de Uyuni form one of the harshest livable climates on planet Earth. Despite enduring the frigid wind chill at 15,000 feet, this flamingo enjoys a meal foraged from beneath the salt.

More than a year ago, I was in Bolivia to visit an orphanage that we work actively with. We decided to take a short detour and visit the salt flats. We expected it to be beautiful and to be like New mexico but were we in for a surprise? It was everything beyond our expectations. The salt flats stretched as far as our eyes could see. The thin layer of sublimation on top of it reflected the sky so vividly that it appeared as if the sky was meeting the earth. When the sun set, we felt like we were in a trance. It was gorgeous. (That's me, in the picture stretching after the long car ride when my friends clicked this)

El Valle de la Luna features an almost extra-terrestrial landscape caused by erosion. There are two circuits through the park, one that takes about 15 minutes, and a longer one that takes about 45 minutes. Both are easy hikes, but hang on tight to the little ones - there are some steep drops protected by questionable guard rails. There is a nominal entrance fee, about USD $2 for foreign adults. Park signs are in Spanish and English (English translation courtesy of Google).

There are many reasons to stay at Hotel de Su Merced in Sucre - the lovely staff, the soft beds, the central location. But the best part of staying here? You can have lemon meringue pie for breakfast every day. It is included in the delicious breakfast which also includes the usual eggs, fruits and assorted other breakfast pastries. But until Bolivia, we had never considered pie a breakfast food. We might just have to keep this in our morning routine.

This was purely one of those luck of the draw photos as I was sitting in my hotel room in one of the tallest cities in the world. I walked to the lobby and noticed the orange hue of sunset had set in. I didn’t have much of a view from my room, so I frantically raced up to the roof to see if they had a walkway. They didn’t, but they did have a couple open windows which I was able to lean out of and get some fantastic sunset shots with the Monastery peak in the foreground and the fiery sunset in the background.

The San Francisco cathedral was originally constructed in 1549. Take the guided tour of the church (20 Bolivianos per person, or about USD $3) even if you don't speak Spanish. The guide will lead you up to the roof for some great views of La Paz. Take a deep breath if you're claustrophobic - the stone stairway is a bit tight.

Okay, so it's hard to find a bad cup of coffee in Bolivia. But if you're in the San Miguel area of La Paz, you can check out the Roaster Boutique. Not only can you get a cup of coffee and a slice of cheesecake, but you can also sign up for classes on "The Science of Coffee," or "How to Be a Barista" (both beginner and advanced levels).

Even after descending 17,454-foot Pico Tarija in Bolivia’s Cordillera Real range, I still felt on top of the world. Looking back, seeing the porters, mules, gear, and guides from Elma Tours in La Paz—not to mention the impossibly steep glacier I had climbed—it all felt surreal. Running on fumes, I was the most spent I’ve ever been. But it was pure elation knowing I had just successfully completed my first foray into mountaineering—five days of Andean climbing and two summits. As soon as I found out I’d be visiting La Paz, climbing 19,974-foot Huayna Potosí shot to the top of my must-do list. I signed on with a six-person group of international travelers from Austria, the Netherlands, and the U.S., none of whom had any alpine experience. Then, I agreed to climb Tarija with my wife on no rest following the three days on Potosí, stupidly thinking a 17-er would be easy by then. Beating the odds, everyone in my group of six summited Potosí, and my wife and I managed to reach the peak of Tarija. It’s hard to say which was tougher since I was increasingly exhausted on Tarija, though conditions were more challenging on that peak—along the way, we experienced a white-out, Kate and our guide fell through crevasses, and we constantly heard the unnerving sound of rushing water beneath the ice we walked upon. In hindsight, I would have done things differently, having learned that most newbies should space out their climbing trips.

Spend any time walking around Bolivia’s capital city, and you’re sure to witness a curious and initially ominous sight: Men and boys in ski masks and stained clothes are ubiquitous on the sidewalks of La Paz. Especially when you first spot one, or have one walk straight toward you, it can be unsettling if you don’t know who they are or why they look like a mugger. Not unlike India’s untouchable class, Bolivia’s lustrabotas, or shoeshine boys, live in a world of blatant discrimination and shame. Stuck on the lowest rung of the economic ladder, many are homeless, and they are often harassed by fellow Bolivians. As a result, the tradition of the mask was born. In 2009, you could volunteer through the Adventure Brew Hostel with a street outreach organization that ran a soup kitchen in El Alto, La Paz’s poorest (and highest) neighborhood. Most of the patrons were lustrabotas, who relished the opportunity for community and a warm meal. Within the confines of this oasis, some even shed their masks. Child-workers shared stories of wearing the disguise so that their schoolmates would not know what they did for a living. I’m not sure that volunteer program still exists, but the lustrabotas now sell a newspaper called Hormigon Armada (Army of Ants) to raise funds for themselves. You can also apparently volunteer for lustrabota street outreach through an NGO, the Rainbow Foundation. It might be the most heartbreaking, but rewarding and memorable thing you do in Bolivia.

For traditional Bolivian food, the residents around the San Miguel area of La Paz like El Vagón del Sur. I started out with the tucumanas (empanadas with a spicy garlic sauce) and surubi (an Amazon river fish), followed by the picante de pollo (chicken in a spicy red sauce, served with potates and chuño). Outdoor seating is available when the weather is warm, and most entrees go for around USD $10 each.

One of Bolivia's leading artists, Mamani Mamani, painted this mural on the exterior wall of the Lanza shopping center (close to the Plaza San Francisco). You can also view some of his original paintings in the VIP lounge of the movie theater in the Megacenter mall in the Zona Sur. Prices range from USD $800 to $2000 (for the paintings, not the movie). There's also the Casa Museo Mamani Mamani in San Miguel (C. Gabriel Rene Moreno #1248, Bloque D-3, San Miguel, La Paz, Bolivia).

The Guembé Biocenter is a 60-acre environmental resort/preserve (if that's a thing) in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. It has a restaurant and swimming pools, as well as extensive grounds that contain a lake, tropical plants, an aviary, and a butterfly pavilion. It's a fun way to spend the day in Santa Cruz, and it's very kid-friendly.

I don't know if I had ever climbed anything before my summer in Cochabamba, Bolivia. Growing up just outside of Philadelphia, outside activities like hiking just weren't relevant, and now I found myself living in a city 8,400 feet above sea level. Walking through the markets induced heavy breathing. I saw the snow-capped mountain every morning on my walk to work. It was nice to look at and a nice change of pace for me. I never even thought climbing it was an option. Too my surprise, a few hiker friends of mine from all over the world popped the question while out at dinner. "Hey, tomorrow we're going to climb Cerro Tunari, you in?" I wasn't really sure what this entailed. Do I need a pole? Can I wear running shoes? I quickly learned it requires altitude pills, lots of bread and jam, layered sweatshirts, and some humility. As we approached the top, breaks were necessary every 3-5 minutes to actually find oxygen. Reaching the top was a revelation for me. I could see miles into the distance, looked down on the clouds, and was overcome with a feeling of calm. A new passion was born. I now find myself climbing things wherever it is I'm traveling.

Even if I didn't have family in Bolivia I might fly to La Paz every so often just to eat salteñas, a meat or chicken pie. You can find them just about anywhere in the city, and the only bad salteñas I've had are the ones I tried to make myself. Watch out for the olive.

Tiwanaku is an ancient, Pre-Incan city considered by archaeologists to be one of the most important Pre-Colombian archaeological sites. It takes an hour to get there from the the Cementerio district of La Paz, and it is well worth it. The citizens of this ancient state believed that the head was the dwelling place for the soul, so the city is full of stone heads!  

From Avenida Sucre, take Avenida La Bandera and then head uphill. Climb the flight of stairs, take a few minutes to catch your breath, and enjoy the panoramic view of La Paz. Be sure to wear sunblock! The sun is strong at this altitude. No entrance fee.

For some reason, Mexican mariachi bands are very popular at Bolivian weddings these days, which struck me as a bit odd. Then again, people in my country do the chicken dance at weddings, so who am I to judge? On Saturdays you can go to los Puentes Trillizos (a group of three bridges in La Paz) to see paceña brides-to-be walking across in their wedding dresses for good luck.

Calle Jaén is a pedestrian-only colonial street close to the Plaza Murillo, containing a number of museums and artist workshops. The Marka Tambo peña is also here (Calle Jaén 710) if you'd like to catch live performances of traditional Bolivian music. The Spanish-language show starts at 10pm (-ish).

Waking up in sub freezing temperatures to see the sun rise is not usually on the top ten list of 9 year olds. But that is not ice my daughter is walking on, it is a huge lake of frozen salt crystals, well worth getting up for. The 4 day trek we did as a family across the these salt flats was a highlight of our trip to Bolivia. We slept on beds made of salt, picnicked on coral spit out thousands of miles above sea level, grazed with hundreds of llamas and flamingos and finally made crazy, out of perspective photos on the blank white canvas of salt. Tip - start your trek from Tupiza, a city well worth visiting on its own. You not only get an extra day for the trek but also more reliable jeeps and guides.

Uynui is a desolate little town on the edge of the great salt flats in Bolivia, which are more than 20 times larger than Salt Lake in USA. Stark, mysterious and sublime part of the Earth. In Uyuni the streets are dusty and cold, and there is a railroad graveyard on the edge of town with old locomotives from turn of century. The last train that Butch and Sundance is said to be in the heap of ruins here. From Uyuni you can jump on a overland trip in a 4WD Landcruiser to travel 3-4 days through high desert, salt flats, volcanoes to border of Chile at San Pedro de Atacama... Many overland outfitters out of La Paz, Bolivia and out of Uynui. Return trips are available too, coming from San Pedro Atacma, Chile. Contours and Amazonas are a couple. I went a few times with Ricardos, which is defunct now, but all run similar route. Camping and refuge accomodation. Real adventure.

To get from Santiago, Chile to Mendoza, Argentina, you have a few options. I ruled out all of them except for the bus. The ride wasn't too bad, the checkpoint was fine, and the view was fantastic. It also helps that an entire city which exists to serve you wine is the endpoint of your journey. Along the way, you are endlessly dazzled by vistas such as these, which repeatedly show up outside your window for miles and miles and miles.