*It started with a photo. You know the kind—pastel houses, cobbled lanes, flowers tumbling from every balcony like they’re late for a parade. I didn’t know the town had a name then. I just called it "the place that looks like a watercolor dream."

It was Colmar. And it was very real.*

📍 Finding Colmar (and Yourself)

Colmar isn’t a detour; it’s a feeling. Nestled in France’s Alsace region, it has the colors of a child’s crayon box and the quiet of a good secret. You don’t come here to tick off sights. You come to remember how to walk slowly again.

I arrived on a soft spring morning, my train sighing into the station like even it hated to leave. The streets smelled of butter and stone. My suitcase rolled like a drumbeat on the cobblestones, announcing my very modern arrival to a very old town.

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