Colmar

Colmar wears two names like a coat it can't decide on. In French, it's Colmar. In the Alsatian dialect spoken by its grandmothers, still Colmar – but the architecture is German, the wine is local, and the storks on the rooftops belong to nobody's nation.

This small Alsace city has been passed between France and Germany so many times that it's stopped choosing. The result: half-timbered houses in amber and rose lining the canals of La Petite Venise, a covered market fragrant with kougelhopf and Riesling, and a quiet civic pride that doesn't need to shout.

But Colmar's beauty is also its problem. The postcard has been too widely shared. Tourist trains trundle past the coloured facades. And the deeper story – of tanners and fishermen who once worked these canals, of Auguste Bartholdi who grew up here before giving New York its most famous landmark – goes untold.

VoiceMap's self-guided audio tour follows the Lauch at your pace. Wander off for flammkuchen when the mood strikes. The canal will wait.

Plug in, stroll slowly. Let Colmar tell you which country it belongs to.