Designing Multi-Lingual Websites: Challenges and Best Practices

When One Language Isn’t Enough

A few years ago, I stumbled upon a charming Italian website for a family-run vineyard. It had beautiful photos, lovingly written stories about generations of grape harvests, and a rustic sincerity that made me want to book a flight right away. There was just one catch — I couldn’t understand a word beyond “vino” and “ciao.” No English. No translation button. Just me, squinting with a translation app and guessing what the winemaker was trying to say.

It made me think about how many stories remain unheard because of language. In a world so connected by cables and code, we still stumble over words. Creating a website that speaks more than one language seems like a simple idea. But once you get into the details, it becomes clear that it’s anything but simple.

Let me share what I’ve learned, as a designer and someone who cares about people understanding each other. If you’re thinking about creating a site for a global audience, or even just a bilingual one, this might help you see what’s coming — and how to make it work.

More Than Just Words

At first glance, it seems like translation is the only hurdle. You write a sentence in English, then ask someone to rewrite it in Spanish, Chinese, or German. Job done, right?

Not quite.

A website is not a book. We don’t just read it — we interact with it. We hover, we click, we swipe. The words are just one part of the experience. The layout, the images, the calls to action — they all speak, even when we don’t notice. And when a site speaks more than one language, it has to do more than translate. It has to transform.

One client I worked with was launching a product in both English and Arabic. What we didn’t realise at first was how much would need to flip — literally. Arabic reads from right to left. That meant the entire design had to be mirrored: menus, navigation, alignment, even the images. Suddenly, our neat, centred layout looked clumsy. We had to rethink what symmetry meant for different readers.

Then there are cultural references. A tiny image of a mailbox might make perfect sense in the UK, but somewhere else it could seem odd or even confusing. Colours, too, carry meaning. In some cultures, red signals urgency or danger. In others, it might symbolise luck or joy.

Building a multi-language site isn’t just about offering a menu where users can switch languages. It’s about creating an experience that feels natural in both. You want users to feel as though the site was built just for them — even if someone halfway across the world is getting the same content, but in another tongue.

The Hidden Complexity

It’s easy to underestimate how deep the roots go. You’ve got your main site in English. Now you want to add French. Great. You duplicate the page, plug in the translated text, and… oops. The French version is longer. Sometimes, much longer.

Suddenly, your carefully balanced design starts to spill over. Buttons expand. Paragraphs push past their containers. In some cases, you need to shrink font sizes or redesign entire components. Every piece is affected.

And let’s talk about updates. You’ve got a blog or a news section. New content is added weekly. But now you have it in three languages. Do you write it in English first and then translate? What if the translator takes a week? What if a phrase works in Dutch but not in Japanese? What if the entire concept behind the article doesn’t feel relevant to a different audience?

I once worked with a team that had six languages on their site. It seemed manageable until they needed to update their terms and conditions. What should have taken an hour turned into weeks of back and forth, legal reviews, and localisation updates. Nothing technical — just people making sure the meaning was right in every language. It’s the hidden cost that people don’t see when they click a flag in the corner.

Ways to Make It Work

Despite the challenges, it’s worth doing. You just need a thoughtful approach. Over time, I’ve gathered a few guiding principles that help simplify the process, even if the work is never entirely easy.

First: plan for it from the beginning. If there’s a chance you’ll want a second language later, design your site to be flexible. Leave room for longer headlines. Use layouts that can grow. Avoid tiny buttons or text that can’t expand. Think of the interface as something that may stretch, shift and curve as new languages fill the space.

Second: separate content from design. A good content management system can help here. Instead of copying whole pages, you let the layout remain constant and just swap the language within. This allows you to update content in one place and roll it out across languages with more consistency and less chaos.

Third: invest in real translation. Machine translation is improving, but nothing beats the clarity and warmth of a human voice. When someone reads your site in their own language, they should feel like they’re being spoken to, not calculated at. Find people who understand not just the words, but the meaning behind them.

Fourth: consider the person on the other side. They may have a slower internet connection. They might be using a different device or browser. If you’re reaching beyond your own borders, test your site in other environments, with real users. You’ll be surprised what you find — and relieved when you fix it.

And fifth: make language choices clear but unobtrusive. There’s no universal standard here, but let people choose their language easily at any point. Don’t force them through a country selector if they don’t want it. Language and location are not always the same. A German speaker in Australia might not want English. Respect the user’s intent.

What Feels Natural

The best compliment a multi-lingual website can receive is when someone forgets they’re using a translated version. They click, they read, they respond — and it all feels effortless. They feel at home.

The opposite is also true. If someone lands on a page that looks badly translated or clearly built for someone else, they don’t stick around. They bounce. Not because your product is bad, but because the site isn’t speaking to them in a way that makes sense.

And it’s not just about trust — it’s about inclusion. When someone sees their language, their symbols, their way of navigating the world in your digital space, they feel considered. They become more than data points. They become participants.

When I visit the website of the Italian vineyard nowadays, they’ve added an English option. The stories are still there, awkward touches here and there, sure — but now I’m part of it. I understand what they’re proud of. I hear their voice.

That’s the real reason to build for more than one language. It’s not about global reach or analytics charts. It’s about connection. People want to be seen, heard, welcomed. In a strangely silent medium like the web, language becomes the handshake, the greeting, the invitation to stay.

The Beauty of Effort

Designing across languages asks more of us. More patience, more listening, more care. And yes, it takes more time. But there’s something satisfying about it — shaping a single experience that can resonate in different corners of the world, adjusting it just enough so that it feels correct in each culture.

I’ve come to believe that a thoughtfully localised site is a kind of generosity. It says: we’ve made room for you here. We didn’t assume. We took the time.

That effort is visible, even when done right. Users may not notice every detail, but they will feel it.

And in a cluttered world where many things scream for attention, something that simply feels right — in any language — stands out.