I wasn’t planning to find the Pfister House. I was just walking through Colmar on a quiet Thursday morning—May 1st. The streets were still sleepy, shutters half-closed, and the light had that soft, early spring glow. Then I turned a corner, and there it was—tall, golden, and full of stories. It almost felt like the house was leaning forward, as if curious about the people passing by.
Built in 1537 by a wealthy hatter, this house isn’t just beautiful—it’s full of character. There’s a wooden oriel window that juts out into the street, decorated with carved faces and faded paintings. You can still see the outlines of old murals on the walls, like echoes from another time. Up top, a green-tiled turret points to the sky, catching the sunlight just right—like something from a fairytale.
Standing in front of it, I felt both small and big at the same time. Small, because buildings like this—survivors from a world I can’t even imagine—remind you how tiny you are in the long story of life. And big, because you’re here, alive, witnessing it. That morning, as a breeze moved through the old beams and a bike rolled past, I felt lucky. Like I had stumbled into a little moment of magic that had been waiting for me all along.





During our visit to Colmar in the Alsace region of France this May, we strolled through the charming streets, where history seemed to whisper at every turn. One of the highlights was the stunning Pfister House, a masterpiece of 16th-century architecture. If you’re curious to learn more about this fascinating piece of history, join me in exploring its story further.
For a glimpse into Spain’s vibrant culture, be sure to explore my snapshot stories from the Iberian Peninsula.

