• I moved from the US to Spain, and instead of going home for the holidays, I went to Ireland.
• I didn't do a ton of planning, but I decided to limit my trip to West Cork and Dublin.
• I had such a great time and met lots of friendly fellow travelers along the way.

Last year, I moved from New Jersey to Spain.

As much as I love my family, being in the US stresses me out. Instead of flying home, I wanted to experience something new this holiday season that would hopefully be a salve to the constant political disappointment I've been feeling as a Black woman living in the country.

Although Barcelona (my current city) comes alive during December with Christmas markets, festive lights, and a wave of tourists, I was craving greenery, the tranquility of nature, and maybe a sprinkle of luxury (at least for a few days). I knew I'd find that in Ireland, which I've loved every time I've visited.

Less than a month before Christmas, I did some last-minute planning to make my dream trip a reality.

I set my sights on County Cork

I've been to Ireland a few times, and multiple people I've met abroad have encouraged me to visit West Cork.

The somewhat underrated foodie destination is covered in farmland and remnants of Ireland's once-abundant temperate rainforests.

My curiosity was fully piqued, so I booked an extended weekend at Liss Ard Estate in the town of Skibbereen.

The luxurious estate was a bit of a splurge for me — the cheapest suites start at 160 euros, or about $166, a night — but I considered it a Christmas gift to myself.

The county's natural views were straight out of a movie

I hoped to spend time in nature during my trip, but I wasn't expecting to see greenery similar to "Jurassic Park" in the winter Irish countryside.

I spent most of my time in West Cork wandering the Irish Sky Garden, which James Turrell created in the 1990s.

I didn't even know about the internationally renowned masterpiece of interactive natural art when I booked my stay, but it's safe to say I was forever changed by the beautiful installation.

The Sky Garden is basically just a giant concave oval. When standing inside it, the sounds of nature are amplified, and the sky turns into a massive portrait.

As I lay on the rock slab, staring at the sky and hearing blades of grass shuffle in the breeze, I was reminded how wonderful it is to just be present in the moment.

I returned to an old haunt for Christmas Day

I loved the solitude of West Cork, but I planned on spending Christmas Day in Dublin, more specifically, at Jacob's Inn.

I've stayed in this hostel every time I've visited Dublin. As an avid solo traveler, I rarely find accommodations that organically create the feeling of family among strangers, but this place does it for me every time.

Immediately after entering and putting my bags in storage, I met a travel buddy at the bar who mildly peer-pressured me into going to a reggaeton club (something I didn't even know existed in Dublin).

We had a blast.

There was plenty to do in the capital city

Although Dublin was crowded with a wave of holiday tourists and locals gathering with friends and family, I was still able to carve out dedicated time to rest, regroup, and explore the city at my own pace.

Two of my favorite adventures were finding The Little Pig Speakeasy and visiting the city's museums.

The four properties of the National Museum of Ireland and the National Gallery are all free to the public, so I took my time wandering through as many exhibits as I could.

The speakeasy was the most authentic-feeling one I've been to in years.

To enter, my hostel buddy and I had to find a pay phone, type three numbers, say a code that we got from a local store owner, enter a trick wall, and then follow the neon pig. The tasty cocktails were worth the effort we spent getting into the bar.

My trip ended up being the perfect way to spend Christmas

Other than talking to my mom on Christmas Day, everything about this holiday was new for me.

At times, it was a bit overwhelming. However, not knowing what each day would bring during a season that's usually steeped in tradition was also exciting.

Whether I return to Ireland in December 2025 or set off to another country, I'm excited to make solo travel my new holiday tradition.

• In 2020, my family of three moved from Florida to a small village in Central Portugal.
• The people we met in Portugal were very kind — and loved to stay up late.
• Overall, life in Portugal was more affordable for us.

In early 2020, my family of three was living in West Palm Beach, Florida, when we decided to take a six-month trip around Europe.

During our stay, we rented an Airbnb in Portugal on farmland near the city of Coimbra. We fell in love with the area and ended up extending our stay so many times that the owner asked if we'd like to buy the house.

We decided to make the purchase and lived in central Portugal for the next three years. Here are a few of the biggest differences we noticed after moving abroad.

For my family of 3, settling in Portugal was much cheaper than living in Florida

One of the main reasons we relocated to Portugal was the lower cost of living. Though there are always exceptions, the homes we saw in Portugal were considerably cheaper than those in Florida.

For example, a market summary from the Miami Association of Realtors said the median sale price of a home in Palm Beach County was $363,000 in January 2020. Meanwhile, in our Portuguese neighborhood, we saw houses listed for less than $250,000.

Essentials like medicine, groceries, and even road tolls were also incredibly affordable compared what we paid in the US. In Florida, our family of three spent about $150 on essentials each week, but in Portugal, we spent about $80 weekly.

In Portugal, my family of three could go out to eat for the equivalent of about $31. However, in the US, I don't believe we ever got away with a bill under $50 for a middle-of-the-road meal.

The strangers we met in Portugal were incredibly kind

When we first moved into our home in Portugal, our neighbors offered us freshly picked produce each week.

At the store, when other customers or staff members saw my husband and me with our small child, we were ushered to the front of whatever line we were in. By comparison, in Florida, people sometimes cut me in line if I became distracted by my child.

Though there are definitely kind strangers in the US, the people we met in Portugal were nicer than I expected, and it felt genuine.

Driving through Portugal feels like exploring a national park — an experience I didn't have in the US

If you've ever been to a national park in the US, you'll probably understand what I mean when I say this is how I think of most of Portugal.

From the majestic mountains to the abundance of unspoiled landscapes, you can travel for miles and see only wildlife before being jerked back into reality by another traveler on the road.

Nature trails, walking and bike paths, natural pools, and boardwalks seem to be endlessly woven through the country.

There are tons of beautiful places in the US, but where I lived in Florida, I didn't feel that natural beauty was as accessible or widespread as it was in Portugal.

Our Portuguese friends' schedules were much different from ours

We were surprised to learn that many of the Portuguese people we met liked to stay up late, even with their kids.

While spending time with friends in Lisbon, I learned many of them thought of 8 p.m. as the normal time to begin dinner. After eating, parents often sat, chatted, and had wine while children played alongside them, so small kids didn't get to bed until 9 p.m. or later.

Back in the US, my family usually ate dinner at about 6 p.m., and we always made sure to have our child in bed by 7:30 p.m.

• When I was a college student, I decided to skip studying abroad.
• There were many reasons, but mainly, I wanted to stay with my boyfriend and roommate on campus.
• Now, as a mother of two, I regret that decision to travel freely at a young age.

I went to a liberal arts college that felt, at times, like a four-year sleepaway camp.

After spending high school studying, not dating, and having no social life, college was a dream come true. During freshman year, I snagged a great roommate, several lifelong friends, and a boyfriend.

When it came time to decide if I should study abroad, it was sophomore year, and I was still going strong with my roommate, friends, and boyfriend. I didn't want to leave them, so I decided not to study abroad.

I'm big on accepting my past decisions, but this one, to decline the opportunity to study abroad, is one of my persisting regrets.

I didn't study abroad for a few reasons

When asked, I told people I "couldn't" go abroad and still graduate on time. I was a double major and trying to minor in classics. There were quite a few graduation requirements I'd yet to take, and I remember thinking it would be hard to get all my credits for general ed and my majors while abroad. I didn't want my senior year of college to be spent scrambling to graduate.

If I'm being honest with myself, though, I was scared. I wasn't good at learning languages, so I'd either have to go somewhere English-speaking or put forth a significant effort to gain mediocre language skills in order to navigate another country. I wasn't a very chill traveler, had only ever traveled with family, and liked my comfort foods and spaces.

But my biggest fear was that I would miss out on a great social life I built. Socially, my life had never been better. I'd found a home at my school, had friends who were like family, and was in a relationship. He told me he wasn't planning to go abroad either for similar reasons: He also had a competitive major and liked his life the way it was.

I didn't want to miss a moment with those people.

I regretted my decision the following year

I was immensely lucky and privileged to be at college: A scholarship and my parents paid my tuition. I should've taken the opportunity given to me at that time, so it was short-sighted not to have the chance and study a culture other than my own.

My junior year ended up being one of the most stressful times of my life. The boyfriend and I broke up and got back together — and then we had even more issues. Many of my friends were abroad either for one semester or the whole year, including my previous roommate. Her replacement for the fall semester and I were, to put it mildly, a bad fit. I never felt so alone as I did those first few months of junior year.

I regretted not going abroad, but I was still nervous to do so because my on-and-off-again boyfriend was still on campus.

Years later, I still imagine what my life would be like if I did study abroad

Looking back 20 years later, I wish I'd just gone on my own little adventure. It would have been good for me to stretch my comfort zone at 20 when I was able to move more freely than I am now that I'm financially and physically responsible for myself and two kids.

Because I married that college boyfriend, had two children, and then divorced in 2020, I often wonder if it was worth staying behind for him.

I honestly think it was a sliding doors moment, and my entire life would be different today if I'd taken the opportunity. While I'd like to think I learned from my junior year experiences, I think I could have gotten there faster with a little physical distance from the place and people I'd come to rely on for emotional regulation.

The "Friends" finale aired in the spring of my freshman year — when I was entrenched in these relationships. Rachel famously gets off the plane, doesn't go to Paris, and gives up her dream career. We were supposed to think her staying with her friends and baby-daddy/sometimes boyfriend was the peak of romance. Now, I wish that both Rachel and I had gotten on that plane and taken the chance on the unknown.

• Moving abroad with kids can be challenging.
• BI spoke to parents about how they helped their kids navigate the move.
• Parents suggested telling kids about the move early and involving them in decision-making.

Moving abroad is never straightforward, and with kids in tow, it becomes even more complicated.

Additional factors come into play, from finding the right school and dealing with negative reactions to explaining cultural differences.

"The truth is that as meaningful and life-changing as moving abroad can be, it can be hard, no matter how experienced you feel," Stacy Ennis, who moved her family to Thailand and Portugal, previously wrote for Business Insider.

"When kids are involved, the chances of hardship are even higher," she added.

BI spoke to parents and relocation consultants who uprooted their lives in the US to move to different parts of the world.

Here are their best pieces of advice:

1. Start the conversation early

Genie Doi knew she wanted to leave the US with her family after a shooting near her son's school in Los Angeles. He was 5 years old at the time, and when she told him about the move, he was upset, she said. He worried about leaving his grandparents, friends, and toys behind.

"We tried to prepare him for a year just by talking about how exciting this change is going to be," said Doi, who moved in 2022. Before moving, they also visited his new school in Japan so he could familiarise himself with the environment and try to make some friends.

"It was a really smooth transition for him," said Doi.

2. Plan ahead for school

In 2016, Jackie Baxa relocated from Wyoming to Seville, Spain, with her husband and two sons, who were 9 and 13 at the time. Now, she is a relocation coach for families looking to do the same.

Baxa said that education is a factor that weighs heavily on parents' minds. Things to consider include the language in which classes are being taught and whether their kids have the capacity to pick up a second language.

"Do what you can to foster language development in a way that doesn't feel like you're adding more school to the child," said Baxa, whose sons chose to stay in Europe for college and are now fluent in Spanish.

3. Find a piece of home abroad

Besides packing sentimental items from home, Baxa suggested finding bridging activities to help your kids adapt abroad.

Knowing that her kids were big soccer fans, Baxa and her husband brought them to watch professional games. "We knew that that would be really special for them, and it was special for all of us," she said.

She added that capitalizing on what kids identify with and expanding them into new interests can also create psychological comfort.

"It could open up pathways to friendships and things that will make them feel better about what they've left behind," she said.

4. Involve your kids in the decision-making process

Anna Sosdian, an international relocation consultant at StartAbroad, suggested that parents involve their kids in decision-making.

"Make them feel like they have some control over some of the details," she said, whether that's letting them decide what to do on their first day or choosing which room they will have in the new home.

When Jennifer Kusch told her teenage sons that they were relocating to Dubai for her work, they told her she was "ruining" their lives, she told BI.

But they eventually warmed up to the idea. Kusch moved to Dubai six weeks early to settle into their new home. On trips to Ikea, she video-called her kids so they could choose their bedding and furniture.

"I tried to keep them as involved as possible," she said.

5. Your mood affects your kids

Celia Robbins, who moved to Berlin with her husband and four kids, said she tried to stay positive for her kids. "If you're not happy, it's hard for them to be happy," she said.

To help them better integrate, she and her husband networked and joined communities on Facebook.

They also sent their kids to German language classes and enrolled them in a German American school.

"We are trying hard to be ourselves while also appreciating the community and the culture that we're a part of," she said.

6. Encourage them to ask questions

Despite the stress of moving and potential resistance from their kids, these parents agreed on one thing: Go for it.

Learning to say goodbye to friends and being the new kid is hard, said Katie Miller, who moved from Texas to Dubai with her husband and three young kids earlier this year.

"But I'm watching each of them thrive because they've been stretched in new ways," she said.

She said parents should invite their kids to be curious about the moving process.

"We told the kids there are no silly questions. We are all learning together."

• In May 2023, Jennifer Kusch relocated to Dubai for a job opportunity.
• Her teen sons were initially against the move and said she was "ruining" their lives.
• But she says the experience of living abroad has brought them closer together.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jennifer Kusch, 47, who works in talent acquisition. Kusch moved from Idaho to Dubai with her kids in 2023. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Early last year, my company approached me about a job opportunity in Dubai.

At first, I said no. I had just bought a house in Idaho, where I was raising three kids. As a single mom, moving to the Middle East sounded hard, so I declined. But my boss at the time encouraged me to apply, and I thought, "Fine, why not?"

I got the job and was set to start in 30 days. My daughter was 18 then, and my sons were 15 and 13. When they came home from school, I read them the book "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss and then said, "Guys, we're moving to Dubai."

My daughter was about to graduate from high school but was excited about an adventure. My 15-year-old, on the other hand, said, "You're ruining my life. My people are here. This is where I belong." And my 13-year-old echoed his brother.

The job commitment was for two years. I said, "We're going to go for two years. We're going to see what happens."

I remember crying in my bedroom after thinking, "Oh my gosh, I'm doing this selfishly. I want to do this for my career. Am I ruining my kids' lives?"

But then I thought about how many other teenagers must have said the same thing to their parents.

And so I had another discussion with my children a week later and said, "I hope that you can look at this as an adventure."

It was a big move for all of us

I had traveled outside the US but never lived abroad or been to Dubai. I traveled to the city alone last April while my kids were finishing the academic year.

When I arrived in Dubai, I tested out the public transportation so I could teach my kids how to ride the bus, hop on the metro, or take a taxi.

I found a townhouse-style villa away from downtown Dubai and spent six weeks furnishing the place so that all the kids would have to do was unpack their suitcases. My company provided an allowance to "settle in." While it didn't cover rent, it helped me set up a home for my family. They also covered the flights and most of my kids' school fees.

When I was done, I flew back for my daughter's graduation. I decided to sell everything I owned — apart from my house — as I didn't want to have to pay loads of money for storage.

Although my initial commitment was for two years, I was on a local contract and could stay in Dubai as long as I had a job. It was a calculated risk, selling everything and anticipating my love for living abroad.

In May 2023, I flew with my kids to Dubai. We arrived at the beginning of summer when many expats tend to leave the city because of the heat. The high temperatures in Dubai between May and August range from around 100 to 105 °F.

That summer, my kids didn't have any friends. However, they had one another. I was grateful for that.

Before I went to work, I said, "While I'm gone, I want you guys to make your bucket list of things you would like to do in Dubai."

When I got home, our wall was full of sticky notes with things to do. We planned fun outings, like visiting Warner Bros. World in Abu Dhabi and having an Emirati dinner. When we were done, we would move the sticky notes on the wall from "to do" to "done."

So, instead of sulking and being sad inside, we were excited about what we could discover.

My kids have benefited from living in Dubai

My sons now attend a school with an American curriculum, but they are the only American students. It has allowed them to meet people from all over the world.

They also have independence here that they never had in the US. My 14-year-old son will get in a taxi and go wherever he wants. There's freedom and safety that they have not experienced before.

This has all contributed to why they now love Dubai. On Thanksgiving last year, my older son said, "I'm so grateful that you moved us here." That was music to my ears because I've watched them grow up a lot.

Nothing is the same here. But they've navigated it with resilience, agility, and grace.

The experience brought us closer together

It can be lonely to be an expat in a new place.

But having to rely on each other and experiencing new things together have made us closer. My kids enjoy my company, and I am so grateful for that.

I miss my family and friends, and I know they would like us to come home. At this point, however, I love Dubai and our quality of life here.

My daughter has since returned to the US for work, and my sons will soon leave the nest as well.

I don't know what the future holds, but for now, Dubai is home.

• Kenzie Wallace, 27, moved from California to Spain after she graduated from college in 2018.
• She loves the culture, safety, opportunities to travel, and relative affordability.
• She hadn't originally planned to move abroad, but now she doesn't plan to return to the US.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Kenzie Wallace, a 27-year-old from San Diego who moved to Spain in 2018. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

I graduated from the University of California, Santa Barbara, a year early. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I wasn't ready to settle down and get a job.

I was thinking about what was next — what would I do for myself?

The most obvious option was a master's teaching credential program. I started doing everything one does for that: preparing for the GRE, volunteering, and working with a professor who was a mentor of mine.

One day, the professor asked me, "Why do you want to do this program?" I don't remember what I said to him, but whatever it was, it wasn't convincing.

He told me, "You've studied Spanish before and are good at it. Why not take those skills, go abroad, and teach English in a Spanish-speaking country while you try to figure out your life?"

I had never thought about moving to Spain until that conversation. After doing some research, about a month later, I found a teaching English program in Madrid and decided, "I'm going to do that."

At first, I thought I would stay in Spain for a year and then return to the US and get a job. But about three days after moving to Madrid, I knew I had finally found my place.

I took a leap of faith moving to Spain

I was 20 — just a week shy of my 21st birthday — when I boarded the plane to Spain in 2018.

I was lucky that my parents supported most of my way through university, so I wasn't coming to Spain with a lot of student loans or debt. I also worked at Starbucks during college and had about $12,000 in savings.

Still, I didn't know anyone and wasn't exactly sure what I was getting myself into.

I moved to the country on an English teaching visa through Spain's language assistant program. The program contracts native English speakers to work in public schools, teaching English immersion classes.

I had applied before arriving in the country, secured a part-time teaching job that earned me about $1,000 a month, and was assigned to a school. For my first two weeks in Madrid, I stayed with a host family

When those two weeks were up, I had to figure out housing on my own.

I had to figure out life in Spain on my own

Eventually, I found an apartment on real-estate website Idealista for €530 ($557) in a shared flat with six other Spanish girls. I was the only one who spoke English.

If it weren't for that first apartment, I would never have felt truly connected to Spain.

Though I made friends — American friends through mutual connections, Facebook groups, and colleagues I worked with at my school — it was my roommates who showed me what Spain was truly like.

You can learn about a country and how to speak its language from a book, but it's not the same as putting yourself out there.

I fell in love with Madrid

After my first year in Madrid, I decided to stay another year, which eventually turned into, "I'm just going to stay for as long as I can."

I realized I had my whole life ahead of me to get a master's or a job, but I wouldn't have this opportunity forever.

Spanish people are really friendly and inviting, and the country's proximity to other European countries makes me feel like the world is at my fingertips.

I liked the person I was becoming in Spain. I felt more independent, resourceful, and stronger. l knew that my future was all up to me, and that I could carve my own path.

It felt incredibly freeing and I wanted to keep moving in that direction.

I made a life for myself in Madrid

I've been working at Business and Language College Spain, or BLC Spain, since May of 2023.

I have working rights now through a partnership visa, so I no longer have to worry about the restrictions of an English teaching visa.

At my job, I work with international students coming to Spain, helping them navigate the things I once had to figure out on my own.

Most students don't know how to find housing, open a bank account, or get a phone number. It's rewarding to guide them through those processes.

I have a Spanish partner. We've been together for four years, and almost a year ago, we bought a two-bedroom apartment in Madrid for €240,000 ($252,295). It's located in the eastern part of the city.

The apartment is 77 square meters (about 829 square feet), which is a big improvement since we previously rented a one-bedroom place. We wanted to be able to have guests and set up an office.

Our apartment isn't extravagant, but it's a great starter home, and we're really happy there.

Our neighborhood is great because even though it's a little outside the city center, it's very well-connected. We're also on a major street with many bars, restaurants, and shops. It's definitely less central than we were before, but we like the neighborhood vibe.

Living in Spain has some downsides

My biggest complaint about Spain is the lack of organization and efficiency.

It's tough when you're trying to renew your visa or worrying that your paperwork won't be processed in time. However, it's been a good growth experience for me.

I've been in Spain for so long that I no longer see everything through fresh, rose-colored glasses.

Inflation is a big problem worldwide, and Madrid is much less affordable now than it was seven years ago.

I do think some of the blame is placed on digital nomads — people who come here with high salaries, which drives up rent prices and affects locals who are on lower Spanish salaries.

While I don't know what the future holds, I still feel like Madrid is a place where expats are welcome.

I don't plan to move back to the US

There are a few major reasons I don't plan on moving back to the States.

One is the sense of safety. In Madrid, violent crime rates are very low. I can walk around at 3 a.m. without worrying about my safety. It's a comforting feeling that I've come to take for granted.

Another major factor is the cost of living.

The lifestyle I envision for my future just feels more feasible in Spain. Not including my partner's half of everything, my cost of living is probably about €750 euros a month ($788).

Spain would be an excellent place to raise a family, which I hope to do one day. Education is much more affordable, with schooling free from the age of three. Healthcare is also public and free.

Overall, I think my quality of life in Spain is much greater than what I've ever experienced in the States.

I miss my family, but we've grown closer since I moved to Spain. Over the past four years, I've made more of an effort to meet up with them. We get together once a year.

I don't feel like I've missed out on living back home. My 20s have been amazing. I finally feel surrounded by people who understand me, share similar values and interests, and have the same vibe.

When I got to Madrid, something just clicked. I wouldn't change any of it at all.

• Nina Unlay fulfilled her dream of working in London when she landed a reporter job in 2019.
• After only 10 months, she got on a flight back home to Manila and fell in love soon after.
• She's unsure if the Philippines is where she wants to start a family, but she knows it's where she'll retire.

When I landed a job in my dream city, I thought the hard part was over.

In 2019, I got my master's degree in journalism in London and was hired as an entry-level business reporter, making $36,000 a year.

Journalists back home, in Manila, Philippines, where I grew up, earn an average annual salary of $7,000. So, despite this being on the lower end for the UK, where the median gross annual salary for a full-time employee is about $45,400 — I was thrilled. Also, after having studied in London, I knew that this was enough for me to get by.

I soon learned that if I managed to stick around in London for five years, that's all it would take for me — a non-EU citizen — to get permanent residency.

This year, 2024, was the year when I may have gotten my permit — if I had chosen to stay.

Living in London

My life was so cool. I lived in a warehouse conversion with five other Londoners. Our living room could fit a DJ and a hundred dancing people. Our rooftop overlooked Victoria Park. I paid $1,075 a month in rent for my room.

I made great friends in London, many of whom, like me, were also journalists in flux. We spent our free days having picnics and discovering new parks; our nights barhopping around East and North London.

I was in love with the city. I never felt alone; I enjoyed every morning stroll through Broadway Market, every new café I discovered in my neighborhood in Hackney, and every afternoon spent people-watching along the pathways by Regent's Canal.

Despite the cost of living in London being 150% higher than in Manila, the salary bump at my new job was enough to greatly improve my quality of living: reliable transportation, air quality, healthcare standards, and the whole shebang. Many of the places I enjoyed — markets, museums, and parks — were free to visit.

I did miss certain things about living in the Philippines, such as the reliable presence of the sun, quick getaways to white-sand beaches, the cheap and delicious food, and, of course, family.

But in London, it felt like I had a life where anything was possible.

When the COVID-19 pandemic was declared in March 2020, I had to make a decision. Just a few days later, my things were packed, and I was on a flight back to Manila.

A dramatic exit from the diaspora

During the two years I spent living in London, I started having an irrational fear that if one day planes lost the ability to fly, I would never go home again. The pandemic made that fear feel less silly and more real. It forced me to choose: Did I want to build a life around my favorite city, or build a life around my favorite people?

Moving abroad is a popular narrative in the Philippines, one that I was fed growing up. My parents talked about the opportunity to work abroad with me often, pointing out relatives who had done it in the past and almost using them as role models. I developed a belief that there was a "better life" waiting abroad. And it's not wrong.

According to this year's global ranking of liveable cities, according to the Economist Intelligence Unit, Metro Manila, ranked low, at 135 out of the 173 cities surveyed. The EIU bases its Global Liveability Index on a range of factors including availability and quality of public and private healthcare, culture, education, and crime.

The city is one of the most densely populated regions globally.

Migration is part of the Filipino identity. Up to 10% of the population lives abroad, thanks to a system of government-funded training programs that focus on the high-demand career skills required of overseas workers and departments and agencies that streamline the migration process.

It's part of the reason the Filipino diaspora is so huge. I've said goodbye to so many family members and friends throughout my life — my video calls are to family based in cities that include Vancouver, Toronto, Portland, and New York.

But the truth is that the majority of Filipinos who leave aren't doing so because they want to explore the world. They leave because they feel compelled to — that they need to either for themselves or often also for their families. I am just one of the fortunate few who had the privilege and the means to choose for myself.

Manila, my Manila

In Metro Manila, I never feel alone. The people here are the city's best part. They make Manila what it is; an imperfect place, held up by tape, with good food and people who know how to make the best of a crappy hand.

It is not a dream city. It is hot and humid, but full of heart. I try to enjoy how bright the sun is here — especially when compared to the gray and foggy skies in London. I still remind myself that I am privileged to be home, where I can afford a life that keeps my loved ones close.

Four years after returning from London, I've shifted to a career, working at an advertising and communication agency in the Philippines. I moved into a new apartment, and found the person I plan to marry. It is our little inside joke that I traded London for the chance to find him here.

My fiancé is a Filipino-American who was born in Virginia and moved to the Philippines when he was 5. Sometimes we mull over the possibility of moving to the US and attempting to get citizenship for me. We talk about the possibility of having children and how this might give them better options for their future. We feel compelled to at least consider it.

But whenever we think about retiring, it is always, gratefully, in the Philippines; in our warm, crowded Manila, in the presence of the people we love most.

• Mercer's Quality of Living City Ranking 2024 looks at factors such as political stability and healthcare.
• There were 12 Asian cities that made it into the top 100 in the rankings this year.
• Singapore was the only Asian city to make the top 50.

If you're considering moving to Asia, a new report can help determine which city would be the top choice.

Mercer, a human resource consulting service, recently released its yearly Quality of Living City Ranking, which ranks 241 cities across five continents. The ranking process considers factors such as political stability, healthcare, education, infrastructure, and socio-cultural environment.

In an era of remote work, the ranking also considered the cost of living in different cities.

Mercer said that the most "successful destinations" were those that "blend flexible governance around mobile talent with a high quality of life and an affordable cost of living."

Although many European cities were featured high on the list, with Zurich maintaining its top spot, 12 Asian cities made the top 100 this year. Singapore was the only city in Asia to make the top 50, at 30th position.

Take a look at the top 10 cities in Asia:

10. Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates (85th)

Abu Dhabi recently ranked second, with Dubai taking first place, among the most popular locations for executive nomads, according to the Executive Nomad Index by real estate firm Savills.

The capital of the UAE is known for its modern skyline and shopping megacenters. Expats make up more than 80% of its population, per InterNations, a Munich-based expat network.

9. Taipei, Taiwan (85th)

Taipei, the capital of Taiwan, is tied with Abu Dhabi at 85th. Between 2019 and 2021, Taiwan was ranked first out of 59 destinations in the InterNations Expat Insider survey for the job security expats enjoy and the state of the local economy.

Alex Teachey, a New Yorker who moved to Taipei in 2020, previously told BI that he enjoys the city for its affordability.

"I live a 20-minute bike ride from my office — I never could have afforded anything remotely similar if I'd stayed in New York City," he said.

8. Dubai, UAE (83rd)

Known for its glitzy skyscrapers and modern architecture, Dubai is also an expat hotspot. According to the Dubai Statistics Center, 92% of its 3,655,000-person population are non-Emirati.

Expats in Dubai previously told BI that they liked the city for its convenience and ease of making friends. "There are so many interesting and new people to meet here with different perspectives than we're used to," said Kiran Ali, who relocated to the city with her family earlier this year.

7. Seoul, South Korea (81st)

Seoul, the capital of South Korea, clearly has more to offer than just K-pop. With a population of 9.4 million, the city is popular for expats seeking affordability and a rich culture.

Besides Seoul, Busan was the second city in South Korea to make the top 100, ranking 100th.

6. Hong Kong (76th)

Hong Kong is known for being a global financial center with a thriving food scene. It is also one of the most densely populated cities in the world, with an overall density of around 17,311 people per square mile.

Kaitlyn Cheung, who moved from California to Hong Kong, previously told BI that she was impressed by the country's efficient public transport system and found the city to be diverse. "I routinely made friends from all over the world, which allowed me to broaden my horizons and learn about different cultures," she said.

5. Nagoya, Japan (74th)

Located in the center of Japan, Nagoya is the capital of Japan's Aichi Prefecture with a population of 2.3 million people.

LaJuan, a content creator, moved to a shoebox apartment in the city and pays $230 a month in rent. He appreciates the city's slow and simple pace of life.

"Nagoya, to me, is a perfect balance of both city life and just having some space for yourself," he told BI.

4. Osaka-Kobe, Japan (68th)

Osaka is a port city known for its nightlife and history. It's Japan's second-largest metropolitan area after Tokyo. Kobe, a city known for beef, is 22 miles from Osaka, or just 12 minutes away by the Shinkansen bullet train.

Grace Cheng, who visited Japan 11 times, said Osaka is ideal for foodies. "Whenever I go there, my sole mission is to eat," she told BI, adding that she recommends the city's tonkatsu and takoyaki.

3. Yokohama, Japan (58th)

Located less than 20 miles south of Tokyo, Yokohama is a port city with skyscrapers and is home to Japan's biggest Chinatown.

The district around Yokohama Station earned the top spot for livability in the Greater Tokyo rankings by Recruit Co., a Toyko-based human resource service, for seven consecutive years, per local reports. The same survey found that reasons for wanting to live in the area include the availability of cultural facilities and large-scale shopping complexes.

"Yokohama was so safe that I took public buses by myself at 8 to meet friends in different parts of the city," Alicia Erickson, who moved to the city as a kid, told BI.

2. Tokyo, Japan (56th)

The capital of Japan is home to over 14 million residents and is easily recognized for its neon-lit skyscrapers and busy streets.

David McElhinney, who moved to Tokyo in 2018, was surprised by cultural differences. He added that knowing how to speak a little Japanese goes a long way in the city. "Big cities — especially ones as dynamic, complex, and multifaceted as the Japanese capital — always bring new surprises," he said.

1. Singapore (30th)

Singapore, a small island nation in Southeast Asia, was ranked the highest among Asian cities on the list. Widely hailed as the "most expensive city," Singapore's foreign workforce makes up around 30% of its population of 6 million.

Nick Burns, who transferred from San Francisco to Singapore, said he appreciates the city for its affordable healthcare, safety, and hawker food. "I can't see us leaving anytime soon," he said.

• Millions of Americans live abroad, including in Mexico and Canada.
• It's hard to know exactly how many US citizens live overseas and all their reasons for moving.
• Many say the cost of living, healthcare, and safety concerns draw them to different countries.

Whether it's wanderlust, retirement, cost of living, family ties, or other reasons, some Americans long to live abroad.

They tend to flock to certain parts of the globe more than others. The US's closest neighbors, Mexico and Canada, are top picks.

Others include locations like the UK and Australia where English is the primary language.

Yet, there are a few on the list that may surprise you.

Using census data, the Association of Americans Resident Overseas estimated the countries with the highest number of US citizens.

It's a rough estimate since embassies don't keep an official registry of Americans overseas and the US census doesn't track citizens abroad, Doris L. Speer, president of the nonprofit AARO, told Business Insider via email.

Here are the top 10 countries where Americans are choosing to live after they leave the US, according to the AARO.

10. Spain: an estimated 108,684 US citizens

From the Sierra Nevada Mountains to the Mediterranean coast, Spain has a diverse landscape with bustling cities and charming towns in between.

Compared to other European countries, its cost of living is relatively low. Vibrant nightlife, sunny beaches, high-quality healthcare, and a relaxed lifestyle all make Americans' lists of reasons to move to Spain, while some retirees find their money goes further in Spain.

Non-Spanish and non-Catalan speakers may have trouble navigating some parts of the country, and smaller homes, a slower pace, and unfamiliar bureaucracy all take getting used to for some Americans.

Spain offers a yearlong digital nomad visa. Retirees can apply for a non-lucrative visa (or NLV), which allows them to live, but not work, in the country.

GDP: $1.73 trillion

Economy ranking based on GDP: #15

9. Japan: an estimated 111,021 US citizens

Japan has a population of over 124 million people, and just a tiny fraction of that number are US citizens.

Because the country's population is over 97% Japanese, Americans tend to stick out.

"It was a culture shock to see only one type of ethnicity all around me at all times," Genie Doi, who is Korean-American, recently told BI.

However, Japan's safety, scenery, and quality of life can be huge incentives to move there.

"I was very concerned about gun violence, which is almost nonexistent in Japan," Floridian Alex Evans told BI in 2023. He and his family moved to Mukaishima Island, Japan, in June 2022.

Other US citizens have said some challenges living in the country include a lack of size inclusivity in clothing, difficulties with the language — even with years of study — and the time it takes to travel to other countries from an island nation.

Foreigners who want to live in Japan for six months can apply for a "digital nomad" residence. Those looking to stay even longer can look into visas on the Ministry of Foreign Affairs site.

GDP: $4.07 trillion

Economy ranking based on GDP: #4

8. France: an estimated 117,462 US citizens

From 1954's "Sabrina" to "Emily in Paris," Americans' fascination with France has existed for decades.

US citizens who immigrate there rave about everything from the food to the fashion to the art and architecture.

However, at least a few US citizens have found the visa process tricky and had difficulty finding housing.

Particularly in Paris, some Americans said racism is prevalent. Others had trouble making friends or experienced a language barrier if they didn't speak French.

Filling out lots of forms and waiting for answers isn't uncommon. "The bureaucracy is unbelievably frustrating," Rick Jones, who moved to Paris in 2018, told BI in July.

Francophiles hoping to work or attend school can apply for residence cards or student visas.

GDP: $3.17 trillion

Economy ranking based on GDP: #7

7. South Korea: an estimated 129,499 US citizens

Visitors flock to South Korea to revel in the land of K-pop and K-dramas or to experience the food, shopping, museums, and natural wonders.

US citizens who stay longer have touted universal healthcare, a good quality of life, and convenient public transportation as reasons to love Korea. The high-speed trains cover much of the country, making it easy to travel between big cities.

Among the challenges new residents to Korea face are difficulty with the language, high housing prices, finding employment, and the distance from the US.

Moving to South Korea requires a visa, with most requirements involving work, school, or family. Job hunters can stay for six months with the possibility of extending the visa to a year.

GDP: $1.87 trillion

Economy ranking based on GDP: #12

6. Australia: an estimated 218,216 US citizens

Australia is known for its beautiful beaches and gorgeous weather. For those looking to live there permanently, though, it also boasts a solid economy, good healthcare, childcare stipends, and perks like retirement assistance.

Melbourne and Sydney are among the top 10 most livable cities in the 2024 Economist Intelligence Unit's Global Liveability Index. The country is also one of the most welcoming of migrants, based on a 2019 Gallup survey.

However, for Americans, it is very far from home. It can take nearly 24 hours to travel from the East Coast of the US to Australia.

Another potential downside is that the country's drier, hotter weather is expected to worsen due to the climate crisis, according to the Australian government.

There are visa options for people who want to call Australia home. However, its immigration laws tend to favor the wealthy, giving preference to individuals with education qualifications, professional experience, and who are English-speaking. The Global Talent Program offers visas to "exceptionally talented and prominent individuals."

GDP: $1.8 trillion

Economy ranking based on GDP: #14

5. Germany: an estimated 238,652 US citizens

For decades, Germany has been Europe's economic powerhouse. Many American immigrants to the country found job opportunities, reliable public healthcare, affordable childcare, and a generous amount of time off from work.

Weeks of vacation time allowed them the opportunity to travel around Europe. The country shares a border with Austria, Belgium, the Czech Republic, Denmark, France, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Poland, and Switzerland.

Recently, Germany's economic growth has slowed, the Associated Press reported in 2023. This fall, the government announced tighter border controls and some political analysts are concerned about the re-emergence of far-right politics in recent elections.

Skilled workers can apply for visas and stay for 12 months while looking for a job. The country also recently eased some of its rules around obtaining citizenship, the AP reported in January.

GDP: $4.71 trillion

Economy ranking based on GDP: #3

4. Israel: an estimated 281,137 US citizens

Over the years, Israel has attracted high-tech startups and wealthy individuals, fueling a luxury real estate boom in some cities.

However, Israel's conflict with Hamas and the continued invasion of Gaza have slowed the inflow of millionaires who no longer consider the country a safe haven, according to one investment migration advisory firm.

While many US citizens move to cities far from the conflicts, others are living in the Israeli-occupied West Bank. Some have blamed these settlers for increased violence against Palestinians over the past year.

Those wishing to move to Israel need a visa. The country's Law of Return allows those with Jewish parents or grandparents to apply for citizenship.

GDP: $528 billion

Economy ranking based on GDP: #30

3. United Kingdom: an estimated 325,321 US citizens

Like Canada, the UK is full of native English speakers, which can ease the transition to living in a new country.

The financial website Investopedia found that prescriptions, groceries, and rent are often cheaper in the UK compared to the US, but gas and energy prices can be higher depending on where you live.

Americans living in the UK who spoke with BI have cited its National Health Service, proximity to the rest of Europe, and work-life balance as benefits of their new home.

These perks can offset lower wages and homesickness.

"Despite lower take-home pay, I'm way less stressed," Wales resident Regina Beach told BI in 2023. "The five-weeks paid holiday — that everyone actually takes — certainly helps."

Some potential downsides, which Americans may struggle to adjust to include smaller homes and the rainy weather. The UK's pub culture isn't for everyone, either.

You can apply for work and study visas to start living in the UK. The government's website provides information on settlement, which allows you to live, work, and study there for good.

GDP: $3.59 trillion

Economy ranking based on GDP: #6

2. Canada: an estimated 1,050,898 US citizens

The US's neighbor to the north has scenic beauty, vibrant cities, a large English-speaking population, and universal healthcare. These are all attractive reasons for Americans to relocate, though temporary or permanent residency is a little more difficult to attain than in Mexico.

Americans won't necessarily find affordable housing in some of the country's larger cities, like Toronto and Vancouver. But for some, Canada offers a feeling of safety, especially with the US's high rates of gun violence.

Despite the benefits of universal healthcare, some transplants from the US found that there can be long waiting lists for specialists and certain treatments.

While the country does offer paths to becoming a permanent resident or citizen, they're often tied to work or family connections. Skilled workers and entrepreneurs can apply for visas, and relatives can sponsor certain family members so they can live, study, and work in the country.

GDP: $2.21 trillion

Economy ranking based on GDP: #9

1. Mexico: an estimated 1,182,346 US citizens

Mexico draws many Americans who want to stay close to friends and family while settling in a new country.

The ability to hop across the border to use their Medicare is also important for many retirees, she said.

Housing, groceries, and healthcare are typically less expensive than in the US, though the influx of newcomers is causing rising rents and housing shortages in some areas like Mexico City.

Many US citizens obtain a temporary resident visa that allows them to live in Mexico for up to four years. Retirees looking to stay can apply for a permanent resident visa, which allows them to stay indefinitely.

GDP: $1.85 trillion, according to the International Monetary Fund.

Economy ranking based on GDP: #13

• Analucy Benavides, 30, felt major burnout and stress in her corporate job.
• She thought leaving the US to relocate to El Salvador was the change of pace she needed.
• In El Salvador, she found community and purpose.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Analucy Benavides. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When I graduated from college in 2016, I got my first "big girl job," working for a national non-profit in Maryland focused on disaster response and humanitarian aid. I started as an emergency dispatcher, then became a compliance analyst, before being promoted to a program manager role for our disaster response efforts.

I loved my job and the greater mission we served, but I started to feel burnout — especially once the COVID-19 pandemic began. During the pandemic, the first thing I would hear in our morning meeting was the death toll. Waking up to those numbers every day for months on end started to take a toll on me mentally and physically.

At the time, I was in a really dark place and knew I needed a change of pace. I felt being somewhere where I could enjoy tropical weather and the sun, near family, would be a good place to start. When the company I worked for decided to go fully remote, relocating became feasible.

I decided to return to my roots

While relocating to El Salvador, full-time would be new to me, visiting was not. I'm a first-generation American born in the United States, but all of my family was born and raised in the small, Central American country. My dad is buried in El Salvador, and every year for Día de Los Muertos, I visit to clean his tomb, leave flowers, and pay my respects.

In November 2020, while I was visiting and spending time with my uncle, there was a pinging in my heart telling me not to leave. That feeling lingered when I got back to Maryland, and I decided to start preparing to relocate.

I began shipping things that I wouldn't be able to take in my carry-on luggage, but knew I would have a hard time finding there like basic electronics and one of my go-to snacks, peanut butter. I was a little worried about leaving my mom, my sister, and my grandma, who are all based in Maryland, but I knew moving abroad was the best decision for me and my health.

In January 2021, I bought a one-way ticket to El Salvador. I arranged to live in my grandma's former house, which still belongs to her but was empty at the time. Structurally, it appeared more like a field house, but it had an indoor shower, bathroom, and A/C, which were not common amenities for other homes in the very rural area.

I found community in El Salvador

My grandmother grew up in El Salvador, and everyone who knew my connection to her was more than willing to help out. For example, there were not many transportation options in the area I moved to. The bus was often broken, but when I needed a ride, people traveling through the area were more than willing to drop me off at my destination.

In the evenings, I would usually go on an hour-long walk or run. If the neighbors didn't see me, they would check in to make sure I was OK. When I was sick, they brought me hot chocolate and soup. These small gestures not only meant so much to me but also made this country feel like home.

Content creation helped me discover my passion

After a year of living abroad and working remotely at my corporate job, I decided to resign. After five years, I felt that I had completed my purpose within the organization and there knew there wasn't room to grow. I decided to put myself first.

Luckily, I had been pursuing content creation on the side, and having more free time allowed me to focus on that growing interest. I documented my day-to-day life living abroad on TikTok. I vlogged when I went to the market to get food, and I shared how I navigated the culture shock of re-discovering wellness habits we consider normal in the US, such as getting waxed or getting my nails done.

I also documented more meaningful events, like community-building efforts. My grandma's house is situated next to a river, and sometimes, there was a lot of litter in it despite people using that river to wash clothes. It was important to me to help the community prioritize keeping it clean, so we all participated in a river cleanup, which I shared with my followers.

I wasn't monetized on TikTok at the time, so my income while living in El Salvador came from finding freelance gigs. I worked as a social media manager for a US-based makeup company owned by a Salvadorian and an interpreter. The social media management position supplied supplemental income, while being an interpreter provided the bulk of my income. I speak English, Spanish, and Portuguese and would translate in all three languages. I earned around $35,000 in one year of freelancing, which was enough to live comfortably in El Salvador.

I eventually returned to Maryland

After two years abroad, I decided to move back to Maryland in January 2023 to care for my mother, who had been diagnosed with a brain tumor.

Now that I'm also taking care of my mother and her medical bills, my freelancing salary would not be enough. I was able to get a full-time local government job working with immigrant communities who don't speak English, while still pursuing content creation on the side. Connecting with the community in El Salvador helped me feel reconnected to my purpose, and in my current position, I'm also helping assist my fellow community members.

While I'm based in Maryland with my family right now, I do have plans to move abroad again. I know I can return any time I want to be reminded of my family's history.

Three years ago, when Mark Goff and Phillip Engel had their first viewing of Château Avensac in the south of France, only one thing prevented the California couple from putting in an offer: Was it old enough?

The gate tower, supporting walls, and stone bridge at the estate's entrance date back to the original medieval castle built in 1320. But the main building — a 48-room château with sweeping views of the Gers, the rural, foie-gras-producing region of southwest France — was rebuilt in the 1820s. "The idea of the royals and the nobles, to us, is a very romantic idea," Goff says. "That's why we love 'Bridgerton.'"

In the end, they decided there was "just enough 14th-century château stuff going on" to fulfill their fantasies and make it their new home. The place was certainly big enough to host weddings and artist retreats, a business the couple was counting on to help pay for the extensive renovations that would be required. By the fall of 2021, Château Avensac was theirs for $1.2 million.

That's when reality set in.

The château had exposed electrical wiring, "nonexistent" plumbing, and stone walls that retained moisture. Everywhere they looked, there was something in need of work. So far, they've spent $500,000 updating the château's electricity, heat, and plumbing, fortifying the foundations, and replacing the roof. They've budgeted for $500,000 more. "Everyone said, 'You have to assume everything is going to be double what you expect.' And they were kind of right," Engel says. "We didn't really listen to that part."

All across France, there's a glut of châteaus for sale. While the average asking price is $2 million, smaller châteaus can go for a couple hundred thousand. A few, like the palatial mansion nicknamed the "Little Versailles of the Pyrenees," are even being given away. But there's a reason they're on the market: The properties are huge money pits.

Real estate agents say buyers should expect to set aside as much as 1.5% of the purchase price for annual maintenance, and significantly more if the château requires extensive renovations. And if the place is classified as a historic monument, as some 15,000 are, add to the process a small mountain of French bureaucracy. Plans require approval by the French minister of culture, and work must be done by designated specialists. In all of France, there are just 31 architects accredited to run these projects. What's more, the places tend to be woefully outdated and incredibly isolated.

"It's true, you can buy a château in France for nothing," says Adrian Leeds, an American real estate agent who's been in France for 30 years. "There's a reason for that: because nobody wants them!"

That is, the French don't want them. Americans very much do. "There was a razzia" — a plundering raid — "right after the pandemic," says Gonzague Le Nail, a French real-estate agent who specializes in châteaus. Most of the interest used to come from foreign buyers in the market for a second home, but now, Le Nail says, it's from families looking to relocate to the French countryside and use the château as their primary residence. Half the châteaus around Paris are foreign-owned, and inquiries from Americans are up across France.

The day they signed the deed of sale, Goff and Engel invited over all 74 residents of the town of Avensac and served them Champagne, impressing their new neighbors with the decidedly un-aristocratic sensibility they brought to their aristocratic new digs. A few months later, they hosted a "spooky Halloween" party. "They're very open, very nice, and very low-key," says Mayor Michel Tarrible, who's been a recipient of the couple's homemade cookies.

This was not Goff and Engel's first time taking on an extreme fixer-upper. In 2009, they bought a place in Sonoma County, north of San Francisco, that took a decade to renovate. They did much of the work themselves, much of it at night and on weekends. Goff documented the process on his blog. (Goff is a graphic designer, while Engel works in tech.) They ultimately sold the house for twice what they had put in.

Around 2020, Goff happened upon a #chateaulife vlog on YouTube, where a family was documenting the highs and lows of buying and renovating a château. He couldn't believe how cheap the properties were going for, and he pitched Engel on the idea of moving abroad.

"In California you can flip houses and make a lot of money," Goff says. "I knew going into this that it's not going to be like that. You do it because you want to live this kind of rustic, ruined lifestyle in the south of France."

Another chatelain, Abigail Carter, describes a similar trajectory: She had some experience transforming old, dilapidated homes when, as she puts it, she became "obsessed" with buying a château in France.

Originally from Canada, Carter and her husband lived in a succession of fixer-uppers in London, Massachusetts, and New Jersey as they moved around for work and grew their family. After her husband died in the September 11, 2001, attacks — he was visiting a trade show at the World Trade Center that day — Carter relocated to Seattle with their two kids. By 2021 she was living in a converted firehouse she'd renovated and wondering what was next for her.

She found her answer bingeing #chateaulife vlogs on YouTube. "For less than half of what you would pay here for a house, you can get an entire château," she recalls thinking. "I decided not buying a château in France was going to be more detrimental to my health than buying one."

Carter made two visits to France before finding a property she felt she could handle on her own. Château de Borie, a 12-bedroom château near Agen, had been vacant for four years. "It was almost like 'The Grinch Who Stole Christmas' with all the wires hanging," Carter recalls. But the place had good bones. Carter closed on the place in 2022, paying $610,000 and budgeting another $200,000 for furnishings and renovations.

Panic kicked in almost immediately. "My God," she remembers thinking. "What am I doing? Why am I doing this?"

Last year, an enormous cliff above Carter's property split open and rained rubble down on her property. It will likely take tens of thousands of euros to remove the debris and secure what remains of the cliff. "The cliff has been there for 300 years and it's been fine," she says. "Of course, I've owned it for a year and a half and this thing comes down on me."

But the experience has also been thrilling. "I'm bringing this house up in terms of its elegance again," she says. "French style doesn't change. It's very understated and very elegant."

Recently, a young family from Paris inherited a nearby château and began coming down for weekends. Carter says it's slowly dawning on them what it will cost to maintain it.

"They love it, but it's crumbling — literally crumbling," Carter says.

For many French sellers, what strikes Americans as romantic has come to feel like a curse. Château de l'Espinay, a 15-room manor in Brittany, has been in the family of Williams Henrys d'Aubigny for 250 years. His father, on his deathbed, made him promise never to sell. But at 79, he's overwhelmed by the time and money the property requires. He has no children of his own, and none of his younger relatives have any interest in moving to northwestern France to take over the place.

Henrys d'Aubigny, like many French owners who feel weighed down by history, is desperate to sell. But he's also prone to overvaluing what that history is worth. It's been five years since he listed the château for $2.7 million, and he still doesn't have a buyer. He estimates it needs $100,000 worth of renovations, though his real-estate agent says it's more like $1 million. There's mold, and only one functioning bathroom. The place is so expensive to heat that Henrys d'Aubigny sleeps in a guest cottage during the winter.

"He's very, very attached to his château," his agent says. "It's all he talks about. He thinks you can't put a price on culture."

For years, Henrys d'Aubigny has been holding out for a buyer who will love the place as much as he does. But then a couple from Ohio bought a château up the road; he came to admire their commitment and tasteful renovation. He now says his preferred buyer is "an American who's got a lot of money."

Most of the Americans who take on a château aren't looking for a European life of leisure. Their goal is to start a business. Carter, who just hosted her first retreat at Château de Borie, eventually hopes to generate $60,000 a year by marketing the romance of rural France to Americans and Canadians. She plans to host creative retreats for painters and writers, and "healing" retreats for widows. On her website, she sells château-themed T-shirts and art prints, and she has amassed 48,000 subscribers on her Chateau Chronicles channel on YouTube. In a recent video, she toured the grounds of her château and wondered aloud how this was all "somehow mine."

At Château Avensac, things have turned out to be even more difficult than Goff and Engel bargained for. Two years ago, Goff woke up from spinal surgery paralyzed from the chest down. The condition is temporary, but regaining the use of his legs has been a slow and difficult process, requiring five or six days a week of physical therapy. A wheelchair isn't the best way to move around a 48-room château, but Goff is making do.

Goff and Engel say they're on track to soft-launch their events business in 2025. They've also started selling château swag on their website, and they've set up a Patreon account so their fans can support the work they're doing to reclaim a part of France's history and culture.

"I live in a château," Engel reminds himself when he's feeling overwhelmed. "Yes, it's a crumbling château. But it's still a château. And there's something very romantic about that."

• Sinead Mulhern has been living in Ecuador for six years.
  
• Earlier this year, she spent a week in the hospital due to a collapsed lung, a severe complication of pneumonia.
• The support she received from the hospital staff and her friends confirmed that moving there was the right decision.

I was lying wide awake on a hospital bed in Ecuador, hoping for sleep yet fearful that if I dozed off, I'd miss something crucial.

Everything had come as a big surprise. The day before, I was standing by lime-green valleys, planning mountain adventures. As bachata beats blared from market stalls and birds of prey soared above, I thought about camping nearby and watching the sun sink below a sea of clouds. Or, I could return to the Monopoly board-like Andean town nearby and explore its river valleys.

But as I was daydreaming about adventures, I noticed something was wrong. I'd been having trouble breathing for a few days. As an avid runner and hiker, it felt strange that I could barely climb the steps to my apartment.

At the hospital in Cuenca — the city where I have been living for the past six years and about 200 miles south of Quito, Ecuador — I had a tube running between my ribs into the space between my lungs, an oxygen mask, and some answers. While I'd been in the countryside, my right lung had been collapsing. A severe — and rare — complication of pneumonia.

It got serious quickly

I returned to the doctor's clinic for a second visit after it was clear that an asthma inhaler and the medication hadn't helped. I had assumed I was in for a course of antibiotics and an early night.

Instead, I was sent for X-rays, and based on the technician's questions, I sensed this was more serious than I thought: "Were you in an accident?" "Are you a heavy smoker?" "Did you fall?" "Could something have caused blunt-force trauma?" I raised a brow. No to all of the above.

"We have to go to the hospital right now," my doctor told me after confirming that my right lung had collapsed. "I'm surprised you're even standing up talking to me right now."

It was a whirlwind evening. I messaged my friend Sanja, asking her to meet me at the hospital and bring a few essentials. I had been told that a surgeon was on her way and that they would perform a bronchoscopy, a procedure that involves inserting a tube between the lungs to examine the airways. Following this, a catheter would be inserted in between my lungs to drain the air buildup that had caused the collapse.

I was asked if I had family who could help me buy my medical supplies. I told them that would be Sanja.

I met Sanja in 2018, and she has become like a sister. We've supported each other through the ups and downs of expat life. She arrived shortly after the surgeon had explained in detail what she was about to do.

I felt scared and focused on my friend as the surgeon told me to hold my right arm above my head and stay still. Sanja asked the questions I was too in shock to ask for myself. I'd have been lost without her.

Medical care in South America

I grew up with access to Canadian healthcare. How would my hospital stay here compare? Would I be able to continue to live in Ecuador at altitude? Were my running and mountain adventures over?

I called my friend Jonathan in the morning, and he came right away. An Ecuadorian-American, he briefed me on what to expect and told our friends where I was.

My hospital stay lasted a week. As my anxiety subsided, I noticed differences in how things are done here. Many of them I preferred.

Visiting hours were relaxed, so I had friends popping by every day. I could see the mountains from my room. The pharmacy next door played Latin music. When I closed my eyes and listened, I felt the sun on my face and briefly forgot where I was. It was less formal too, which I preferred.

My insurance plan didn't cover this — a personal oversight I made because I figured I was healthy and possibly even invincible. Lucky for me, the care was high-quality and ended up costing a little over $3,000. I never had to wait for a room, procedure, specialist appointment, or check-up.

According to KFF, a nonprofit health policy group in the US, the average cost per day for an inpatient in a US hospital in 2022 was over $3,000.

I had no family but had built a community

I also saw the value of my personal connections and the caring Ecuadorian culture. People I didn't know well would call to check in, and friends of friends would send well wishes.

My doctor called my mom in Canada. A new friend drove me to an X-ray appointment. My friends brought tea, meals, and books. My Pilates instructor helped me regain strength.

As a foreigner in Ecuador, I sometimes feel out of place and lonely. In the hospital, though, I realized what a strong community I had built over the years.

My "chosen family" comes from the US, Ecuador, Australia, South Africa, England, and Venezuela. They are all the results of personal relationships I have built during the good times: parties, road trips, and adventures. Now, I understand that community is an investment in health, too.

From the outside, living abroad can look pretty convincing. My highlight reel is packed with nature, street art, slow mornings, and vibrant celebrations. But this was one of my lowest moments in Ecuador. And guess what? That gave me a different kind of reassurance.

Three months later, my body has healed, and I'm cleared to go up into the mountains again. Recently, I spent a bright sunny day hiking past sparkling lagoons, yellow flowers, and tangled forests. I'm grateful to know I'll have many more like this.

Got a personal essay about health emergencies while traveling that you want to shareGet in touch with the editor: [email protected].

• A small town in Italy is offering homes for 1 euro to attract Americans amid the recent election cycle.
• Ollolai's initiative is part of Italy's broader "Case a 1 euro" program started in the 2010s.
• There is also an option for digital nomads to work there for a month for only 1 euro.

In the lead-up to an administration change, you might hear someone say they're leaving the country for good. A small comune on the island of Sardinia in Italy is listening.

Ollolai, a town of 1,154 people, according to the Italian National Institute of Statistics, created a website geared toward helping Americans find homes in its town for just 1 euro (or about $1.05), taking advantage of the latest election cycle.

"Are you worned out by global politics," the new website reads. "Looking to embrace a more balanced lifestyle while securing new opportunities? It's time to start building your European escape in the stunning paradise of Sardinia."

Roughly one dollar for a home in a picturesque town in the middle of an Italian island — about 50 miles from the beach — might sound too good to be true. The homes offered aren't in the best condition and would require about $25,000 in renovations which must be completed within three years, according to previous reporting from Business Insider.

But if you're willing to put some effort into your home, Ollolai will welcome you.

"We just really want, and will focus on, Americans above all," Mayor Francesco Columbu told CNN. "We can't of course ban people from other countries to apply, but Americans will have a fast-track procedure. We are betting on them to help us revive the village, they are our winning card."

"Of course, we can't specifically mention the name of one US president who just got elected, but we all know that he's the one from whom many Americans want to get away from now and leave the country," Columbo told CNN.

The transition team for President elect-Donald Trump did not respond to Business Insider's request for comment.

This isn't a new program — and Ollolai isn't even the first town to try the approach.

"Case a 1 euro," which means "houses at 1 euro," is a program across Italy that launched in the 2010s to revitalize the dwindling populations in more rural towns. Ollolai started offering 1-euro homes in 2018, but other towns, like Sicilian commune Gangi, started giving away vacant houses in 2015.

Americans moving to Europe, and Italy specifically, has been a somewhat common trend. But if you don't want to commit fully to moving across the ocean, a redirect from the Ollolai website luring potential buyers offers an option for digital nomads.

"Work from Ollolai" is a program that lets "successful professionals" live in the municipality for just 1 euro as long as they "promote an exchange of information" to rural communities through presentations, classes, or projects.

That covers rent and, according to the website, guests can stay for a maximum of one month.

• I'm Australian but spend part of the year in New Orleans, and there's been some culture shock.
• American coffee isn't exactly my style, and biscuits are something totally different in the US.
• I easily got a driver's license in the US, which is good since there are drive-thrus everywhere.

Long before my first visit to New Orleans, I fell in love with the US city's historic culture. As an Australian, I never thought I'd get to call The Big Easy home, but now, I split my year living between the two countries.

Adjusting to life in New Orleans was an eye-opening experience, full of unexpected surprises and plenty of head-scratching moments.

Here are some of the biggest culture shocks I've encountered as an Aussie in the US.

I'm still getting used to American coffee

I never realized just how serious Australians, especially Melburnians, are about their coffee. I'm used to a certain standard and flavor.

Luckily, there are a handful of places that serve great coffee in the States — but I emphasize the word "handful."

After five years, it still astounds me to see Americans embrace sugary, syrup-filled drinks that barely resemble what I consider coffee.

Additionally, I can't believe drip coffee is still a thing here. It's a rarity where I'm from in Australia.

I thought it was way easier to get a driver's license in the US

In Australia, getting my driver's license was a drawn-out process involving learner's permits, over 120 hours of logged driving with a licensed driver, and a strict test.

In the US, getting my license felt like a breeze by comparison. I just had to sit in a theory class for a few hours and then spend eight hours behind the wheel with an instructor.

After that, my test was driving around the block, parking, using my turn signal, and boom, I had my license. The ease was both impressive and a little scary, considering they were letting me drive on what was recently the wrong side of the road to me.

The rules around getting licenses vary from state to state, and many Americans under the age of 18 have to undergo a more formal course/testing process. But I'm still shocked by how different my two experiences were.

I'm still getting used to linguistic differences around food

Navigating the language differences between the US and Australia, especially with food, is like playing a guessing game.

Imagine my surprise when I ordered biscuits for the first time in the US and got something more closely resembling scones. I was expecting what I now know to call a cookie.

I wonder if I'll ever stop ordering some chips and realizing too late that I should have said "fries." In Australia, both fries and chips are called chips — we just differentiate by saying "hot chips" for fries.

Things also get lost in translation with my accent

My Australian accent has caused some wild misunderstandings in the US.

From getting "Greary" written on my coffee cup instead of "Ree" to a drive-thru worker at Taco Bell thinking I was attempting to order pizza when I just said, "I have a mobile order," it's a daily game of "Guess What I Said."

It keeps things entertaining, to say the least, and it's also why I love being able to order via an app whenever I can.

Southern food has been a culinary awakening

New Orleans cuisine is an adventure for the taste buds. I've learned to embrace savory grits (I'd usually add sugar and eat them as porridge back home), and I've grown to love gumbo's rich flavors.

I fell in love with Southern food shortly after my arrival in the States. Still, walking into a whole new world of gastronomy was an adjustment.

There are some dishes — like white beans — that I just can't make my palate enjoy, and I have days when I long for the local fish-and-chip shop back home.

There's a drive-thru for everything in New Orleans

In New Orleans — and in many cities in the US — you can pull through the drive-thru for pretty much everything, from coffee shops to bars.

The strange looks I got from locals while taking a photo of a drive-thru bank for friends back home were amusing, and the concept of picking up a daiquiri to-go felt wild to me at first.

Now, I'm kind of hooked. It's the ultimate lazy convenience.

Americans use so much ice

Compared to what I'm used to in Australia, everything is supersized in the US. A "small" soda feels like a bucket to me.

However, I really don't understand why Americans love their drinks filled to the brim with ice.

Once you take that out, there's hardly any liquid, no matter how big the cup is.

Tipping culture is so confusing to me

The first time I came to the US, my biggest worry wasn't getting through immigration or having the right documents — it was tipping.

It sounds silly now, but I still find the practice of figuring out what percentage of my total I should leave behind confusing.

In Australia, tipping service workers isn't expected, and base wages are typically higher.

• Michelle B. Dallocchio left the US in 2019 and moved first to London and later Italy.
• Dallocchio, an Iraq War veteran, said she felt increasingly unsafe in the US.
• She said moving to Europe was the best decision for her family and she has no regrets.

This as-told-to essay is based on conversations with Michelle B. Dallocchio, an Iraq War veteran of Pacific Islander heritage who left the US for Europe. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

I served in the US Army from 1998 to 2006, including a year in the Iraq War. I served out of love for the country, but I don't view the US through rose-colored glasses.

Right before the 2016 election, a car followed me as I drove home from work to my Las Vegas neighborhood. All of a sudden, he started honking and losing it.

He rolled down the window, and started screaming at me. He threatened me and made racial remarks about deporting me. This experience was a turning point for me.

After that as a licensed gun holder, I started carrying a gun — a Glock 17 — in my bag every day.

I had already been on edge, and I thought to myself, "I can't do this anymore. This is bananas."

My husband and I had a long talk, and I told him: "This is not the future I want for my kids."

From the US to Europe via LA

I didn't have a good feeling about the way things were headed in the US.

When Trump won the presidential election in 2016, we agreed to move abroad, though my mind was made up months before the results were in.

We couldn't leave the US straight away, so we relocated to Los Angeles in August 2018. We thought if my husband, who works in hospitality, got experience working in a major city, it would improve his chances of finding work at an international hotel. My husband is Italian, which made going to Europe an option.

He received multiple offers within months of relocating, but the most solid and sensible offer came in 2019 to work at the Westin in London.

That summer, we finally got word that we could relocate to the UK.

My husband's employer helped us through all the corresponding residency paperwork, particularly for my daughter and me. This was pre-official Brexit and being married to an EU citizen helped at the time.

Very quickly, I found a sense of security in London that had become elusive back home. As English is my first language, it wasn't difficult to adjust to life in London.

Every place has its problems. You'll deal with crime and safety issues wherever you go. But I felt a lot less endangered in the UK.

There are stricter firearms laws in the UK. It's illegal to carry a weapon there. I felt there was less tolerance for anti-social behavior in public. There are higher rates of violent crimes in the US.

Moving abroad has its challenges

There are other challenges associated with a long-distance international move.

We were fortunate that my husband's new employer at the time provided relocation assistance to cover part of the moving costs, which would have been quite expensive out-of-pocket.

In 2022, we moved to Florence, Italy, where I encountered some overt racism. People in Italy would openly stare at me and I felt like an exotic animal in a zoo.

This year, we moved to Milan, and things are better in a big city. I can now get by in conversational Italian unless the Milanese dialect takes the conversation light-years away from my grasp.

Moving to Europe has propelled my husband's career in amazing directions. He now manages four hotels.

As an artist and author, living in the UK and Italy has added to my artistic vision.

Moving back to the US is a hard no

Ultimately, I have no regrets about moving abroad.

I really miss the national parks in the US and seeing my friends for a gossip over brunch. But, I don't miss the problems that made my life so difficult, whether it was racism or overpriced healthcare.

The 2024 election was the nail in the coffin for us going back to the US. It's a hard no for I don't know how long, and I've accepted that.

Watching Trump's victory from afar was difficult because it's a country I once fought for. Now, it feels like progress is unraveling.

As the results came in, people I care about started reaching out, saying, "We need to go." I've spent the last few days looking up options for people.

My first piece of advice is always to check if you qualify for another citizenship.

Countries like Italy and Portugal allow citizenship by descent. I ask my friends, "How close is that ancestry, and how realistic is it for you to relocate based on it? Can you get another passport?"

If that's not so possible, I suggest considering digital nomad visas or, depending on your vocation, looking for other job opportunities overseas.

For us, moving abroad and ending up in Italy was the right move.