That’s what happened in Zaandam, a small city just outside Amsterdam. A quiet place of canals and windmills, known for its industrial past… but not exactly for its architecture. Until one day, everything changed.
A building rose. And not just any building.
From a distance, it looked like a puzzle of stacked houses—green and blue façades clinging to each other as if glued together by force. But up close… it was something else entirely. It was the Hotel Inntel Zaandam.
Twelve stories tall. Nearly 70 different façades, each inspired by traditional homes from the Zaanstad region—from humble workers’ cottages to elegant notary houses. And right in the middle of that mix: a blue house. An exact replica of the one Claude Monet painted in 1871, during a visit to Zaandam.
It wasn’t just a tribute to the past. It was a bold statement.
Because in a country known for straight lines and Calvinist restraint, someone dared to ask: What if we did it differently?
Concrete and colorful timber
Wilfried van Winden, the architect behind this visual daydream, had a clear vision from the start. He didn’t want another soulless concrete box. He wanted each guest to feel at home—even in a hotel. And he succeeded. The 160+ rooms are decorated with images of the city, its streets, and its traditional products—cocoa, biscuits, nostalgia.
The hotel cost €15 million. A project that, anywhere else, might never have made it off the drawing board. But here, the local authorities saw it as an opportunity. Zaandam needed a new identity. And this hotel became the starting point.
Sure, the structure is made of concrete. But the façades are wooden, with cladding that makes everything feel authentic—like each module is its own house, stuck to the others by sheer willpower.
And it worked. Better than anyone expected.
An Instagrammable Landmark
Because the Inntel Hotel Zaandam didn’t just make it into architecture magazines. It went viral. On Instagram. On TikTok. In videos, selfies, fashion shoots. It became a phenomenon. One of the most photographed hotels in Europe—not for its luxury, but for what it makes people feel.
Amazement. Smiles. That “What is this?” moment that slowly turns into affection.
Van Winden says that if the building makes someone smile, then his job is done. And he’s right.
In a time when everything feels standardized, this hotel is a reminder: imagination still matters. Tradition can be playful. And a building can tell a story.
Today, the Inntel is more than a place to sleep. It’s a symbol. A postcard. A destination in itself.
And it all started with a slightly crazy idea—and a blue house from a Monet painting.