After almost two years of searching for the perfect place to call home, we finally discovered the property that felt just right. It was a process filled with anticipation, disappointment, and more than a few moments of uncertainty. Our journey to becoming homeowners in Strasbourg, France, began in the summer of 2022 and culminated in an experience that was as enriching as it was challenging. This wasn’t just about buying an apartment—it was about manifesting a space that would become both our family sanctuary and my creative haven.
The Long Search for the Right Home
For nearly two years, Pierre and I immersed ourselves in the intricate and often overwhelming real estate market of Strasbourg. As a growing family with two young children and a deep desire to put down permanent roots, we knew this would be one of the most important decisions of our lives. Every weekend turned into a series of property visits, every evening became an endless scroll through listings, and every conversation somehow circled back to, "What about this one?"
We were not just looking for a roof over our heads—we were chasing a lifestyle, an environment that could truly support the rhythm of our daily lives and the vision we had for our future. Pierre’s devotion to gardening meant outdoor space was essential. Not simply a symbolic balcony, but a real, functional garden or terrace where he could grow, nurture, and harvest. For our children, we wanted an apartment that felt like home from the moment they walked in. We dreamed of natural light, open space, and the kind of architectural character that would make us feel excited to return home each day.
But Strasbourg posed its own unique set of challenges. Outdoor areas in centrally located apartments were incredibly rare. Many of the homes we visited had balconies barely wide enough to hold a chair, or worse, courtyards that were beautiful but technically off-limits. In some cases, we found buildings with shared garden areas, only to be told those spaces were privatized by landlords or inaccessible due to building regulations. We could see the green just beyond the fence—but we couldn’t touch it. It felt like trying to live in a postcard: lovely to look at, but never quite within reach.
The Realities of an Evolving Real Estate Market
As if the scarcity of suitable properties wasn’t enough, we also had to navigate a volatile and fast-moving real estate landscape. Strasbourg, a city with a rich historical identity and a growing reputation as a hub for culture and innovation, was experiencing a significant property boom. Prices were rising faster than we had anticipated, and with each passing month, the pressure to act intensified. We often found ourselves rushing to viewings, only to be told that an offer had already been made hours before.
This sense of urgency didn’t come with excitement—it came with stress. We began to worry that the right home might pass us by simply because we hadn’t moved fast enough. Offers needed to be made quickly, decisions had to be taken almost instinctively, and hesitation came at a high cost. The emotional toll of making such a substantial investment, only to repeatedly feel like we were a step behind, began to weigh heavily on both of us.
There were moments when we thought we’d found the one, only for some unexpected detail to derail the opportunity. Maybe the ceilings were too low for Pierre, who is quite tall. Maybe the location was too noisy for young children. Sometimes, the photos online bore little resemblance to reality. And sometimes, the moment we walked in, we knew it just wasn’t meant to be. That elusive coup de cœur moment—the instant connection people always talk about—continued to evade us.
Balancing Family Needs and Aspirations
Our criteria weren’t outrageous, but in a city where traditional architecture often dominates, they felt borderline impossible to meet. We longed for a space that allowed our family to thrive. Natural light was a must—not only for my creative spirit but for the general energy of our home. I’ve always believed that the way light flows through a space can shift everything: your mood, your productivity, your connection to your environment. Many of the apartments we visited were dark, with small windows or poor layout that made the spaces feel more cramped than cozy.
For the children, we imagined them playing in a sunlit living room, maybe helping Pierre water herbs on the balcony, or even growing strawberries on a little terrace. But so often, the apartments we saw felt confined. Rooms felt like boxes, cut off from one another. There was no sense of flow, no sense of life being lived. We began to wonder if what we wanted simply didn’t exist in this city. Would we have to compromise so much that the final choice no longer felt true to us?
Then there was the matter of community. We weren’t just buying walls and floors; we were choosing neighbors, school districts, markets, parks. We needed to feel welcome in the neighborhood, connected to the rhythm of local life, and inspired by our surroundings. It wasn’t about perfection—it was about resonance.
A Growing Sense of Uncertainty—and a Glimmer of Hope
By the second year of our search, we were emotionally drained. The excitement of hunting for a new home had been replaced by cautious skepticism. Even listings that looked promising didn’t spark joy anymore. We kept asking ourselves: Were we being too picky? Was our vision unrealistic for Strasbourg’s housing stock? Should we expand our search to nearby towns or rethink our criteria altogether?
Every time we considered lowering our expectations, something deep inside held us back. We weren’t being unreasonable—we were being honest about what our life needed. We wanted a space that felt like an extension of who we are. It wasn’t just about square meters or amenities. It was about finding somewhere that allowed us to grow as individuals and as a family.
Still, we started to accept that maybe our dream apartment didn’t exist. Maybe we’d have to build it ourselves, or shape it from something imperfect. It was around this point—when our hope was wearing thin—that a curious listing appeared online. It didn’t look like anything we’d seen before. The layout was unconventional. The photos were raw and unedited. And yet, something about it caught my attention. It felt like a whisper, like the beginning of a sentence we hadn’t heard yet. I clicked. I read. And I showed it to Pierre.
The Unusual Listing That Changed Everything
In the midst of an exhaustive property search that had started to feel endless, something extraordinary happened. One quiet summer afternoon, while casually scrolling through property listings, I stumbled upon a real estate ad that immediately caught my eye. It looked nothing like the typical Strasbourg apartment. Instead of the usual pitched ceilings and oddly shaped rooms tucked beneath eaves, this one had open space, clean lines, and a palpable sense of airiness. It was a loft—unconventional, radiant, and full of potential.
There was something captivating in its simplicity. The listing didn't feature the usual professional photos. The images were somewhat raw, but that somehow made it feel more authentic. Where most listings aimed to dazzle, this one seemed to invite possibility. Even before showing it to Pierre, I felt that little tug—an intuitive spark I hadn’t experienced with any of the other properties we had visited.
When I finally showed the listing to Pierre, his reaction was immediate. “Did you see this?” he asked, pointing to the floor plan. “There are two separate lofts for sale, side-by-side.” That detail hadn’t fully registered with me, but now, it felt serendipitous. We had set out to find a single apartment, but the idea of owning both adjoining spaces unlocked a new layer of possibilities. Perhaps this wasn’t just our future home—perhaps it was something even greater.
A Loft Unlike Any Other
As we arranged the viewing, I prepared myself emotionally. After so many underwhelming visits, I didn’t want to get my hopes up. But the moment we stepped inside, the energy shifted. The main loft was large, sunlit, and refreshingly raw. It lacked the polish of a staged apartment, but it had integrity. Yes, the space needed work—floors, walls, and utilities would all require updating—but the bones were good. Very good.
Most of Strasbourg’s residential buildings, particularly those in the older districts, lean heavily on tradition: heavy beams, dormer windows, and low ceilings. This space, however, was an anomaly. The ceilings soared, light poured in from multiple angles, and the open floor plan allowed the imagination to run wild. It had clearly lived many lives, each one leaving behind a layer of character and charm. This wasn’t just an apartment; it was a blank canvas.
We were pleasantly surprised by the rooftop terrace as well—a detail not easily found in central Strasbourg. Though modest in size, it offered views over the neighborhood’s rooftops and a sliver of sky that felt all our own. It was easy to imagine it becoming a little sanctuary, a green corner in the city where Pierre could garden and our children could play.
Still, despite being won over by the main unit, we hadn’t forgotten the second listing. Since we were already there, we asked the agent if we could view the other loft across the hall. That spontaneous decision would alter the course of our search—and our life.
The Studio That Found Me
The second we stepped into the adjacent loft, something inside me clicked into place. It was smaller, yes, but even brighter than the first space. The way the sunlight streamed through the windows made everything feel lighter—not just the room itself, but my thoughts, my body, my emotions. The space carried a unique energy, something expansive and entirely creative.
It didn’t take long to realize what I was looking at. This wasn’t a second apartment. This was my studio.
As a creative person, I’m acutely sensitive to environments. I’ve always believed that physical space shapes internal space—what we feel, how we think, what we create. This second loft radiated inspiration. It whispered ideas, encouraged movement, invited stillness. It was the kind of place where you could lose yourself in a painting for hours or craft something entirely new from a place of deep authenticity.
Without needing to speak, Pierre understood. We looked at each other and nodded. Though we hadn’t set out to buy two properties, the clarity of the moment was undeniable. One loft would be our home. The other would be the heart of my creative practice.
The smaller loft had none of the polish of a commercial studio. There were patches of chipped paint, exposed wiring, a creaky floorboard or two. But it had light, soul, and a peaceful stillness I hadn't felt anywhere else in our search. I could already envision the transformation: crisp white walls, natural oak flooring, canvas racks along one wall, maybe a skylight if the structure allowed. It would be a space where ideas could breathe.
A New Vision for How We Live and Create
Finding both of these lofts side-by-side opened up a new way of thinking. For months, we had searched for a single place that met every one of our needs. But this discovery reminded us that the perfect solution doesn't always come in a single box. Sometimes, the magic lies in assembling different parts to create something far more meaningful and expansive than we initially imagined.
The vision became clear: one space for living, one for creating. We wouldn’t have to choose between family life and personal growth. We could have both—connected, yet distinct. Pierre could continue his gardening dreams on the terrace. Our children could grow up surrounded by light, creativity, and a sense of freedom. And I would have a dedicated place to return to myself, to the part of me that imagines, dreams, and builds.
Purchasing two properties in a historic European city isn’t a decision to take lightly. But for us, it felt not just exciting—it felt aligned. We weren’t just buying square meters. We were investing in a lifestyle, a rhythm, and a place that would support who we are and who we’re becoming. These weren’t just real estate listings. They were spaces with history, potential, and purpose.
In a city as multifaceted as Strasbourg—where old meets new, and tradition meets innovation—these two lofts gave us the rare chance to build something that honored both our roots and our aspirations. We weren’t just finding a home. We were crafting a life. And as we left that viewing that day, hearts full and minds racing, we knew this was the moment everything changed.
The Offer That Started It All
After months of disappointment, endless scrolls through property listings, and a growing sense of unease about ever finding the right place, our path finally became clear. When we came across the dual loft listing in Strasbourg, everything shifted. Both the larger apartment and the smaller unit across the hall spoke to us on different but equally powerful levels. One was a potential family home; the other radiated the creative energy I’d long dreamed of for a personal studio. The moment felt rare—and we knew it wouldn’t last.
We wasted no time. The minute we finished our viewing, we submitted a full-price offer on the larger unit. In France, this isn’t just a strong expression of interest—it’s a legally binding move that freezes the listing from the market. As long as no major complications arise, a seller is obligated to proceed with the transaction once a buyer offers the full asking price. This practice offers some relief in a competitive property market where homes can disappear within hours.
Not long after, we discovered that someone had already made an offer on the smaller studio, but it had been significantly below the asking price and was swiftly rejected. The idea of someone else claiming that space—the one that felt so intuitively like mine—was unbearable. So we returned to the sellers with purpose. Given our serious commitment to the main loft, they were willing to enter negotiations. To our relief and surprise, we secured the smaller space at a lower price than originally listed.
The moment we realized both offers were accepted, it felt surreal. In one of the most sought-after areas of Strasbourg, we were on the verge of owning not one, but two rare loft properties. It was an exciting win, but we were aware that the real challenge had only just begun.
Understanding Strasbourg's Property Laws
In the aftermath of our successful offer, we were introduced to an unexpected layer of complexity in the French real estate process: the city’s right of preemption. Known locally as droit de préemption, this law allows municipalities to intervene in real estate sales under certain conditions. If a city deems the property to be of strategic interest for public use—perhaps to create social housing or expand urban infrastructure—it can purchase it directly, even after an offer has been accepted.
This law added two more months of uncertainty to our journey. For sixty full days, we lived in a suspended reality, unsure whether the city would exercise its rights. We waited in cautious optimism, frequently checking in with our notary for any updates. There was no official indication that the city had its eye on our specific lofts, but we knew better than to count on assumptions. Until the municipality issued a formal waiver, we were effectively in limbo.
Despite the stress, this pause gave us time to reflect and visualize what life could look like inside these raw, untouched spaces. I imagined walls painted with soft, earthy tones. I saw Pierre planting herbs and vegetables on the rooftop. I pictured my children chasing each other barefoot on new hardwood floors. I envisioned myself painting late into the evening with sunlight pouring in from oversized windows. It was a mental exercise that kept hope alive during a time of uncertainty.
Eventually, the city gave its formal approval to proceed. The feeling of relief was indescribable. Finally, we could begin preparing for the reality of ownership—and the immense transformation ahead.
Tangled in Bureaucracy and Financial Hurdles
Owning real estate in France, particularly as an expat, comes with an intricate web of regulations, financial scrutiny, and bureaucratic slowdowns. Although we had secured the properties in principle, accessing the funding necessary to finalize the purchase was far more complex than we anticipated.
For starters, the condition of both lofts made the transaction less appealing to conventional lenders. Neither unit was deemed habitable at the time of purchase. There was no functioning heating system, the electrical infrastructure was outdated, and insulation was inadequate for year-round living. Some areas of the flooring were uneven, and the ceilings had visible water stains from previous leaks. This type of “fixer-upper” property isn’t exactly favored by banks, which generally prefer safe, livable, and easily appraisable spaces.
Further complicating matters, August was approaching—and in France, that essentially means the country slows to a crawl. It’s a deeply entrenched part of the culture: entire offices shut down, vacation mode takes over, and securing a simple appointment can take weeks. Our notary was on holiday. The real estate agent was out of town. Even our bank contacts were unavailable. Progress halted. Though frustrating, it was something we had to accept.
We also faced personal challenges. Pierre had just launched his artisanal chocolate business and was self-employed with fluctuating income. I was working independently as a creative freelancer, without a long-term contract—another red flag for lenders. Add to that the fact that I was an American without French citizenship, and the complications multiplied. Due to international tax regulations, particularly FATCA, some French banks have grown reluctant to lend to Americans without a firm work contract or residency status.
We had to pull together every document we owned—tax records, income statements, proof of savings—and prepare multiple letters explaining our plans and financial reliability. In the end, it took longer than expected, but we managed to assemble a package that reassured our lender. Still, the journey toward funding these purchases felt more like an uphill climb than a straightforward process.
Pushing Forward with Persistence and Vision
Despite the red tape, the logistical snags, and the long silences from officials and lenders, we never lost sight of the vision we had. These two lofts weren’t just real estate. They were the physical embodiment of the life we’d been striving to build. Owning both spaces allowed us to live intentionally: to create an environment where family, creativity, and freedom could thrive side by side.
We began planning every detail of the renovation, building a new vision from the skeletons of old structures. From architectural layouts to custom storage solutions, we reimagined the lofts from top to bottom. What started as uncertainty slowly took the shape of clarity. The larger unit would become a warm, modern family home. The smaller unit, my personal creative sanctuary.
It would be a home not just to live in, but to grow in. A place where we could raise our children with room to play and explore, while also carving out space for our passions and professions. The complexity of the acquisition was daunting—but it reinforced our resilience. It reminded us that anything truly worthwhile demands persistence.
As we moved toward signing day, we didn’t feel like we were simply buying property in Strasbourg. We were investing in potential. We were building a future, layer by layer, on a foundation of faith, planning, and imagination. The lofts we found were raw and imperfect—but they were exactly what we needed. With patience and intention, we were ready to turn them into something extraordinary.
Challenges as an Expat Buyer in France
Navigating the real estate landscape as a foreigner in France is never straightforward, but our circumstances made it especially complex. Though we were filled with excitement after finding the perfect lofts in Strasbourg, we soon came face-to-face with the stark reality of what it truly means to purchase property abroad—especially when your life path diverges from the traditional.
Pierre had recently stepped away from a conventional full-time position to pursue his passion project: launching an artisanal chocolate business. While his new venture was filled with potential, it lacked the financial stability that banks typically look for. Start-up income, no matter how promising, rarely reassures lenders. In France’s cautious mortgage market, anything outside the norm raises red flags.
My own situation only added to the challenge. As an American living in France, working as an independent creative without a long-term employment contract, I fit the profile of a “high-risk” borrower. I didn’t hold French citizenship, nor did I have a CDI (Contrat à Durée Indéterminée)—the indefinite employment contract that serves as a golden ticket in French lending culture. Without that, even with consistent freelance income and financial reserves, banks viewed my file with skepticism.
What further complicated matters were international banking regulations affecting Americans living abroad. Due to compliance concerns tied to U.S. tax laws, particularly those implemented under the FATCA law, many French banks have quietly tightened their restrictions on U.S. citizens. Some institutions refused to consider my mortgage application at all. Others entertained it briefly, only to cite excessive liability and administrative cost as reasons for rejecting it.
And let’s not forget—our situation wasn’t typical in any sense. We weren’t trying to buy a single apartment. We were negotiating the simultaneous purchase of two separate properties. That’s nearly unheard of, especially when one of the buyers is self-employed, foreign, and newly linked to an entrepreneurial household. From every angle, our request raised eyebrows.
Overcoming Resistance with Strategy and Patience
Knowing that traditional routes wouldn’t suffice, we decided to shift our approach. Rather than relying solely on automated mortgage assessments, we worked directly with a bilingual mortgage broker familiar with expat files. This turned out to be a crucial move. The broker understood how to present our case—highlighting our stable track record, savings history, and detailed renovation plans.
We compiled every document imaginable: multiple years of tax returns, invoices from clients, formal letters of professional verification, and a business plan from Pierre’s chocolate venture. We even had to prepare letters of intent outlining how we planned to inhabit and improve the properties. Everything had to be translated, notarized, and compiled in pristine order. One missing paper could delay the process by weeks.
This part of the journey tested us. It felt like a never-ending loop of requests, corrections, clarifications, and repeat submissions. And it all happened while managing the emotional pressure of watching our dream hang in the balance. Were the sellers growing impatient? Would the city intervene with a preemptive purchase? Would a bank finally say yes—or slam the door shut?
But persistence paid off. One bank, after much deliberation, finally offered us a tailored mortgage package. It wasn’t without its compromises—higher interest rates and more rigorous insurance requirements—but it was a green light. We moved forward, not with ease, but with undeniable relief.
The Reality Behind Buying Property as a Foreigner
While France remains a desirable place for expats to relocate and invest, the process of purchasing property as a non-citizen is layered in rules and cultural nuance. Many first-time buyers are surprised to learn that not all property is immediately available after an accepted offer. In our case, Strasbourg’s droit de préemption meant the city had a legal right to step in and purchase the properties themselves, should they deem the space useful for public projects.
Those two months of waiting were filled with anxious questions and what-if scenarios. Would all of our planning come undone because of bureaucratic red tape? Would we have to start the search all over again? While it’s rare for the city to exercise this right, the mere possibility kept us on edge.
Beyond that, cultural differences play a major role in the buying experience. In France, timelines are longer, paperwork is more intense, and vacation schedules can stall negotiations for weeks. August, in particular, is notorious for shutting down progress entirely. The notary’s office, our mortgage broker, and even the seller’s agent took holiday breaks during our critical final stages. This period, while culturally normal, was deeply frustrating for us as buyers who had already waited so long and invested so much energy.
And yet, despite the delays and frustrations, there was also beauty in this process. It reminded us to slow down. To trust the steps. To understand that in France, things are built for permanence—not for haste. While the U.S. real estate market thrives on speed and competitiveness, the French system values measured diligence and clear legal protections.
Signing Day and a Long-Awaited Victory
The moment we had worked toward for months finally arrived in December. After layers of legal approvals, bank negotiations, city waivers, and personal sacrifices, we walked into the notaire’s office to sign the purchase agreements for both lofts. It felt surreal. The stacks of paperwork, the formal reading of every clause in legal French, the ceremonial exchange of signatures—it all culminated in a moment of profound satisfaction.
For me, as an American expat, that moment symbolized more than just real estate acquisition. It meant anchoring ourselves to a new chapter in a foreign land. It meant that despite the challenges of self-employment, cultural barriers, and financial uncertainty, we had succeeded. We were not just guests in France anymore—we were property owners, part of the urban fabric of Strasbourg.
I remember walking out of the notary’s office with the keys in hand and feeling an overwhelming mix of pride, gratitude, and anticipation. This wasn’t just the purchase of a home. It was the manifestation of years of dreaming, working, and believing that it could all come together.
The Story Behind the Building
The structure housing our new home was built in the 1950s, and its walls have witnessed many lives. Over the decades, it has served a range of purposes: a dance hall, a furniture manufacturing site, a martial arts studio, a prayer room, and, yes—an art studio. The creative lineage of the space felt deeply meaningful to me. Our realtor even mentioned that properties often seem to attract similar types of owners. Just as teachers tend to pass homes on to other educators, this space seemed destined to find its way to another artist.
One fascinating and slightly chaotic feature of the building is the shared stairwell. Lined with decades-old anarchist posters and rebellious graffiti, it looks more like a punk rock venue than a residential corridor. While we plan to renovate this stairway as part of the project, I can’t help but appreciate the wild spirit it represents.
A Vision for the Future
Both apartments are currently being reimagined from the ground up. Fortunately, the windows and rooftop terraces had already been modernized before we purchased the property, giving us a solid foundation. Everything else—flooring, electrical work, plumbing, insulation, ceiling repairs—needed full replacement.
Initially, we thought about connecting the two units through an internal passage. However, after careful consideration and reviewing several layout configurations, we decided against it. Keeping them separate made the most sense for our family and lifestyle.
The larger apartment is being transformed into our family home—a warm, welcoming space filled with natural textures and cozy corners. The smaller unit will become my personal studio: a luminous retreat where I can immerse myself in painting, creating, and dreaming without limits.
Final Thoughts
Reflecting on this journey, what stands out most is that buying these two lofts in Strasbourg was never just about acquiring property—it was about anchoring ourselves in a place that could nourish both our personal lives and creative ambitions. It was about finding a sense of permanence in a foreign country, as expatriates building something entirely from scratch. The process of purchasing, negotiating, and now renovating these spaces has been an emotional rollercoaster—equal parts exhausting and exhilarating.
Every obstacle we encountered made the final outcome even more meaningful. From navigating France’s unique real estate laws and securing financing as a self-employed American, to renovating two separate properties simultaneously in a historic European city—none of it was easy. Yet, the complexity of the path only solidified our commitment to making this dream work.
Strasbourg has always had a unique charm—a city where tradition and modern creativity coexist beautifully. Now, having found our place within it, we feel more connected than ever. These lofts represent more than walls and roofs; they embody a chapter of risk-taking, persistence, and growth. One side will hold the intimacy of everyday family life, the other, the spark of artistic creation. Together, they form the foundation of a life that feels intentional and inspiring.
As renovations unfold, we’re focusing on preserving the character of the building while shaping a space that reflects who we are today and who we hope to become. We’re breathing life back into a place with a long, eclectic past and giving it a fresh purpose.
Owning a home in France, especially one with such personal resonance, still feels surreal. But the path we took here is one we wouldn’t trade for anything. This wasn’t just about finding real estate in Strasbourg—it was about discovering a space that holds space for our dreams. And now, with each paint stroke, plank of wood, and floor plan adjustment, we're creating something that’s truly ours—a home, a studio, and a legacy in the making.
