Taco Trucks & Canyon Trails: A Relaxed 3-Day Los Angeles Itinerary for Food Lovers and December Hikers

Morning comes in pale over the 405 as you ride the tram up to The Getty, the city dropping away until it’s just travertine, quiet galleries, and the soft scrape of shoes on stone. The air smells faintly of eucalyptus and espresso from the café, and the whole campus feels like a pause button before LA fully wakes. By midday you’re back at street level at La Flamita Mixe on Bundy, fingers warming around a paper plate loaded with smoky al pastor, the sizzle from the plancha competing with the hiss of passing traffic. Afternoon shifts you east into Griffith Park Trails, trading freeway drone for crunching gravel and the occasional coyote yip, the skyline laid out like a promise in the hazy distance. Dust clings to your shoes and the air has that chaparral-resin smell that only shows up after a cool spell. Dinner is all color and chaos at Villa’s Tacos Los Angeles in Highland Park, where loud music, high-energy staff, and queso-slicked tortillas make it feel like a neighborhood block party. The night ends a few blocks away at Vinovore, a low-lit wine shop-bar hybrid where the staff talks you through women-made bottles while a carefully chaotic playlist hums in the background, easing you into LA’s rhythm. Tomorrow, you trade hilltop architecture for canyon greenery and a deeper dive into the Eastside’s taco psyche.

The day starts with the hiss of steaming milk and the soft scrape of chair legs at Harmony Coffee Bar—ceremonial-grade matcha, Dalgona lattes, and the faint sweet smell of pastries setting a gentle tone. Outside, Highland Park is still rubbing its eyes, shopfronts half-open, the light along Central Avenue cool and bluish. By late morning you’re threading your way up Ferndell Nature Trail, where the city dissolves into ferns, damp earth, and the burble of water, a surprisingly lush pocket that feels like a secret garden at the edge of Griffith Park. Lunch pulls you back toward the river at 5 Cazuelas, where steam rises from pots and Riverside Drive hums just beyond, the food as comforting as it is bright. The afternoon stretches out on Glendale Peak and Captain’s Roost, where the trails are quieter than the Observatory routes—just your footsteps on packed dirt and the resinous smell of chaparral hanging in the cool air. Dinner is pure taco truck theatre at Leo’s Tacos, the al pastor trompo spinning under bare bulbs, before you slip into downtown’s cultural core at The Broad for a late-night art fix, its honeycomb façade glowing softly against the December sky. Tomorrow, you trade canyons for downtown science and a final Westside taco flourish.

Your last morning has a different sound: school groups chattering, sneakers squeaking on polished floors, the low hum of exhibits at the California Science Center in Exposition Park. Outside, palms sway against a pale winter sky while inside you drift between spacecraft, ecosystems, and hands-on displays, the air tinged with popcorn and that clean, museum-cafeteria smell. Lunch comes from a different corner of the city’s diaspora at Tita Lina’s Filipino Food and Catering on Temple, where steam tables, the aroma of garlic rice, and trays of rich stews remind you that LA’s food story is bigger than tacos alone. Afternoon takes you up the Landa Street Stairs, concrete steps cutting through a residential hillside, legs burning as you climb past painted walls and glimpses of the LA River corridor below. It’s a quiet, very local kind of exertion—the sound of your breath, a dog barking somewhere, the rasp of your hand on a sun-warmed railing. As the light starts to go gold, you head west for seafood at Mariscos Chameclas in Santa Monica, where the cocteles are bright and briny and the air smells like lime and salt. The trip closes with Desvelados Santa Monica, late-night plates and music just blocks from the ocean, the faint taste of sea air mixing with salsa and beer. You’ve looped from hilltop museums to canyon trails to the edge of the Pacific, and the city now feels like a place you move through by appetite and instinct, not GPS.