• Ralph Beale never felt at home while growing up in the UK.
• Originally drawn to Thailand by Muay Thai, he later moved to Koh Samui with his wife to raise a family.
• Now 60, with two grown kids, Beale credits the island for giving him a life he doesn't need a break from.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ralph Beale, 60, the British-born founder of Lamai Muay Thai Camp in Koh Samui, Thailand. His words have been edited for length and clarity.

I never felt at home in the West and always knew I wanted to leave.

I was born in the UK with mixed Asian-European heritage. During a trip to Koh Samui in my 30s, I could tell that Thailand was where I belonged.

Now, 27 years later, I've built a life here — helped grow Muay Thai internationally from the motherland itself, raised a family, and witnessed the island's transformation.

I have no regrets.

A future in Thailand

By the early '80s, I had found my fix: Thailand, specifically Muay Thai.

At the time, few in the West knew about the brutal elegance of Thai boxing, and I was hooked. I bounced between the UK and Thailand, training, learning, and absorbing everything I could.

The country had a magnetism I couldn't shake, and by 1998, I stopped trying. I opened a tiny Muay Thai camp on Koh Samui's Lamai Beach back when there were more palm trees than tourists. For a few years, my time was split between England and Thailand.

My wife, who had initially been one of my Muay Thai students in the UK before joining a training trip to Thailand, had fallen for the island just as I had.

After getting married on the island in 2003, we agreed that our future wasn't in the UK but in Thailand.

Raising kids in Samui

When we moved to Samui in early 2004 our son was 6 months old.

Raising kids in Samui meant giving them something Western city life couldn't — space, freedom, and an outdoor existence. My son and daughter, now in their 20s, had childhoods filled with sun and sea, as well as a Cambridge education.

I live in Lamai with my family, in a house I built 18 years ago, nestled in a coconut grove. With my background in construction, I designed it as a Thai-modern, Western-style pool house — five bedrooms upstairs, two on the ground floor.

Paradise discovered

Of course, nothing stays untouched. In the late '90s, the arrival of a private airport on Samui changed everything, making it far easier for tourists to reach the island.

What was once an "if you know, you know" island became a fixture on the global travel circuit. The beaches still glow, and the sea still shimmers, but Samui has evolved — it had to.

More expats arrived, more high-end resorts opened, and with them came that creeping feeling that paradise, once discovered, never quite stays the same.

The "White Lotus effect" hasn't arrived yet

Then came "The White Lotus."

If the Leonardo DiCaprio-fueled frenzy around "The Beach" — released 25 years ago — did wonders (and damage) to Maya Bay, a cove on an island southeast of Phuket, what would HBO's glossy, satirical take on island luxury do to Samui?

The short answer: it's too early to tell. There's chatter. There's curiosity. But the real impact won't hit until the next high season rolls around — typically between December and April.

If handled right, it could be a boost. If handled wrong — well, I've seen what unchecked tourism does to fragile ecosystems. Let's hope we've learned our lesson.

The party scene on Samui has always been a draw, though it's never reached the wild heights of nearby places like Phuket or Pattaya. The island has its share of lively beach clubs, late-night bars, and, of course, the legendary Full Moon Party just a boat ride away on Koh Pha-ngan — a monthly spectacle of neon, fire dancers, and thousands of revelers dancing till dawn.

One of these parties was featured in an episode of "The White Lotus."

If the show attracts a fresh wave of visitors, let's hope they come for more than cocktails and Instagram shots.

Despite the changes, Samui still has something rare: restraint. There are building restrictions; nothing taller than a coconut tree. There's a commitment to keeping nature as part of the island's identity. It's more expensive than before, but it hasn't lost itself.

I never want to leave

I've built a life in Thailand that makes sense. I'm mortgage-free and work because I want to, not because I have to.

Muay Thai, once my passion, became my contribution to a sport that's now globally recognized. I still travel, but Samui is my constant.

If I had stayed in the UK, my life would have been different — probably more financially stable, but maybe not as fulfilling.

At some point, you realize what really matters. For me, that was quality of life. I was lucky enough to make that decision early.

I value my health over wealth. I've done well enough to look after myself, and these days, my focus isn't on my bank balance. I still work, but much of it is voluntary.

Samui gave me a life I don't need a break from — that, to me, is real success.

• It's been nine years since Zanette Cross left the UK and moved to Koh Samui, Thailand.
• After many vacations in Thailand, she saw it as the ideal place to raise her now 13-year-old daughter.
• The slower pace of life on the island has been a welcome change.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Zanette Cross, a real estate agent who has lived in Koh Samui, Thailand, for nine years. Her words have been edited for length and clarity.

For nearly two decades, my now ex-husband and I made frequent trips from the UK to Thailand, always drawn to the charm of Koh Samui. But it wasn't until we had our daughter that we decided to relocate permanently.

In the UK, we lived in a typical suburban family home with a garden. We could walk to our daughter's school. But it rained all the time and was cold because, well, it was England.

We moved to Samui nine years ago. We saw it as an ideal place to raise our daughter, providing her with more freedom and opportunities in a less congested environment.

The tropical weather in Samui solidified our decision.

Career and life changes

My ex-husband sold his business in the UK, and we moved to Samui in October 2016. Before arriving, we had purchased a small resort. It was one of the first places we had ever stayed in on Samui during a previous visit to the island. When we saw it was for sale, we put in a cheeky offer. We got it.

We didn't take it on to make heaps of money — we saw it more as a lifestyle change. We lived on-site in one of the resort's seven villas.

But I got a bit bored. After 18 months of working at the resort, I decided to return to real estate. Since then, I've been focused on selling luxury villas on the island.

Villas in Samui have been getting more buzz since the third season of "The White Lotus" came out. My friends in real estate have been talking to me about "The White Lotus effect," noticing more Americans booking beachfront villas. But I think it's a bit early to judge how much the show will impact real estate sales.

My husband and I separated, but we still own the resort and have managed to maintain an amicable relationship. The resort is up for sale. We both have new partners.

Island life

Adjusting to life in Thailand presented a few challenges, although the language barrier wasn't as big a deal as I had imagined. Samui, being a popular tourist destination, has a large expat community and many locals who speak English.

Certain foods from Europe — things like French cheeses and wine — are much more expensive here due to import taxes. They can often be double or triple the price of what I'd pay back home.

The majority of tourists tend to stick to Chaweng Beach, Lamai Beach, and Bophut Beach, where most of the resorts and nightlife are concentrated. The Four Seasons Koh Samui, where scenes of "The White Lotus" were filmed, is an exception, as it's in its own quiet little bay.

There is also an influx of party-goers passing through Samui on their way to the nearby Ko Pha-ngan island for the famous Full Moon parties, which was featured in an episode of "The White Lotus."

The atmosphere on Samui itself remains surprisingly relaxed.

The slower pace of life in Samui has been a welcome change from the hustle of the UK. There is no rush to get anywhere. I find myself spending much more time in nature, soaking up the sun and the natural beauty of the island. The beaches, the warm weather, and the community-oriented way of life have made it a perfect place to raise a child.

Healthcare is very good, too, and more private hospitals have opened over the years. While I have to pay for private insurance, I feel well-covered and safe.

Real estate on the island

Samui has everything from little bungalows to multimillion-dollar villas for sale.

I live in Bophut, about five minutes from the popular area of Fisherman's Village on the northern coast of Samui. I own a three-bedroom garden villa with a private pool.

The real estate industry in Samui has grown significantly, especially since the pandemic. More families, particularly younger ones, have moved to the island, many of them attracted by the lifestyle changes it offers.

The rise of remote work has made Samui even more appealing to expats, with families settling here long-term. The demand for properties has increased, and over the years, more international schools have opened to accommodate the growing expat community.

Looking ahead, I can't see us leaving anytime soon. My daughter, now 13, is settled in her international school, and my plan is for her to finish here. That means at least five more years.

For now, Koh Samui feels like home.

• Leslie Redmond, 38, moved from Anchorage, Alaska, to Winnipeg, Canada, in 2022.
• Redmond said Canada is similar to the US but has more of a collectivist mentality.
• She feels caught in the middle of the tense, emotional Canadian-American tariff debate.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Leslie Redmond, a 38-year-old assistant professor at the University of Manitoba who moved from the US to Canada in 2022. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

I'm originally from Virginia, but in 2019, I moved to Alaska to work at the University of Alaska in Anchorage. I loved it there and thought it would be my forever home. But after three months, I met my future husband by coincidence, and everything changed.

At the time, he worked for the federal government in the Yukon, a remote Canadian territory roughly an eight-hour drive from Anchorage. After a year of dating, we got married, which coincided with his placement in the Yukon ending in 2020. At that point, we had to decide what was next.

We concluded that living in Canada made the most sense.

As an academic, it would be easier for me to find a job there than for my husband to find one in the US. Being Canadian, he wouldn't immediately have had the same clearance or career opportunities in the federal government.

Canada's culture also appealed to me, as it feels more progressive. As someone working in public health nutrition, its collectivist mentality also aligns with my values.

Immigrating to Canada was fairly easy

I've always enjoyed adventure. I've moved around a lot, going to places I knew nothing about and where I knew no one.

For me, moving to Canada was more exciting than stressful. The anxiety I felt mainly stemmed from the legal process — there were so many details to manage.

Living with my husband in the Yukon, where the nearest grocery store was a 10-hour round trip, made gathering paperwork like police records, taking English, and getting medical exams even more challenging, especially during COVID-19.

There are several ways to immigrate to Canada, including marriage, but we didn't want to take that route. Instead, we applied through Canada's Federal Skilled Worker Program, designed for skilled professionals in high demand.

The process is based on a points system, where factors like education and age can help you score highly. We felt my credentials were competitive, and this pathway would be faster than applying solely based on our marriage.

Despite the paperwork, the process was relatively easy for me. I'm fortunate to be healthy, have English as my first language, and have plenty of resources. I recognize my privilege in having such an easy experience. I understand that people from countries with different governments or languages and fewer resources face far more barriers.

In 2022, I moved to Manitoba, a prairie province of Canada, and received permanent residency. The process took significantly longer due to COVID since many workers were out or working from home, and the building had capacity limits, causing extended wait times. I believe the process has become more reasonable recently.

Canadians have a 'collectivist mentality'

If you can picture North and South Dakota, you can picture Manitoba. I live in Winnipeg, the capital city of about 700,000 people.

Winters here are typically -20° Fahrenheit and can reach extreme lows, with prairie winds bringing temperatures down to -40° Fahrenheit.

Many movies are made in Winnipeg, as the area is often used to represent historic downtowns of cities like Chicago or Minneapolis.

I'm working as an assistant professor in nutritional science at the University of Manitoba. We live in a neighborhood near the university in a single-family, four-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bathroom home that we purchased for just over $500,000. You can definitely find homes here that cost much more.

Our home is not a new build; it was constructed around 1984. Given the housing shortages and rising demand, it's possible the price was a bit inflated, but we still feel comfortable with what we paid and believe it was a fair value.

I've noticed there are many similarities between the US and Canada, like higher education, career opportunities, and cultural values. From sports to music, the social and entertainment scenes are quite alike, making it easy for someone from the US to fit right in.

The biggest difference, which I'm more attuned to because of my profession in nutrition, is the collectivist mentality here. The people I met in Canada seemed more focused on the common good. This is evident in aspects like healthcare, where many accept that it might be more expensive, but it's available for all.

There's a sense of, "I'm not just being taken care of, but my neighbors are, too." Many people are generally happy to support systems that ensure access to healthcare and childcare. While this mindset exists in the US, I find it more prevalent here.

The cost of living is rising in Canada

Winnipeg is considered one of the most affordable cities in Canada, and many people justify living here despite the harsh winters.

However, I'd say it's more expensive than living in the States, mainly due to taxes that fund social services and various environmental initiatives, such as carbon taxes.

Still, like many Canadians, I'm OK with it because I'm contributing to a system that benefits everyone.

Food prices have risen recently, and grocery shopping in Winnipeg is significantly more expensive than across the border in North Dakota — at least twice as much. However, my husband and I both have well-paying jobs, so we're in a good position to adapt to these challenges.

Winter also brings added costs, like the need for winter tires and increased car maintenance — something many living in a cold climate likely experience.

On the bright side, heating and electricity are more affordable than expected, thanks to being primarily hydro-powered.

Canadians aren't happy about US tariffs

Many Canadians are confused about the tariffs and the presidential election. I often hear colleagues and friends express disbelief, asking, "How did America let this happen?"

I can only speak from my own experience. As an American living here, I'm in a unique position, hearing perspectives from both sides of the border — from my American and Canadian friends and family.

I think many people in Canada initially saw American politics as a spectator sport, watching with interest, almost like reality TV, but remaining detached. I found that frustrating because I knew there would be consequences for everyone.

Now, many Canadians are realizing they'll be affected. I hear strong opinions that are completely valid.

Overall, my family and acquaintances here still see Americans as decent people but are shocked and disappointed by the presidential administration's lack of respect for Canada.

This has become a rallying cry for many to unite, show patriotism, and take action. Many support Canadian-made products, buy locally, and stand firm rather than just complain.

Moving to Canada was a great decision

My husband and I plan to continue living in Canada despite the changes. We have an 18-month-old and another baby on the way.

There are great benefits to raising children here. For example, I get a generous 12-month maternity leave with full pay, which is standard. There's also subsidized childcare, costing just a few dollars a day, compared to the several thousand a month my friends pay in the US.

Looking back, I don't think I would have taken the initiative to move to Canada on my own. I would have kept quiet and just talked about it, but the opportunity to live here has offered many benefits.

It was a great choice, and I don't regret it.

• Cara Celeste West, 33, felt she lacked the support and resources needed to raise a child in the US.
• In 2023, West and her husband moved to Portugal for a more affordable and relaxed life.
• In Europe, her daughter is thriving, and West feels like she has finally found a community.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Cara Celeste West, a 31-year-old content creator who moved from Houston to Portugal in 2023 and is now based on a Greek island. She shares life abroad with her 119,000 Instagram followers and helps people who live overseas find remote work. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

It all started when I became a mom in 2022. The stress of being a new parent in the US, combined with the lack of support and high cost of living, made everything overwhelming.

My husband and I lived in a two-bedroom apartment near downtown Austin, paying $1,600 monthly with utilities included. To save money on childcare, we worked opposite schedules. Despite our efforts, expenses like car payments, insurance, and paying down debt kept us spending around $8,000 a month.

I considered the possibility of moving abroad to live more affordably and comfortably. I didn't want my child to attend a traditional public school in the US, and I wanted to teach her through travel and real-life experiences.

We weren't ready to fully relocate, so I thought living abroad temporarily could be a good option, though I wasn't sure how that would look.

In the summer of 2022, a friend invited me to join a Facebook group for "world-schooling" families. I was amazed to find a community around the idea I'd always had in my head.

I joined the group and asked if anyone kept a home base in the US while traveling part-time throughout the year. A family responded, sharing their experience with the Boundless Life program, which offered housing, education for children, and coworking spaces for a fee of about $3,400. It took them to Portugal, and they were now moving to Greece.

It was exactly what I'd been looking for.

We tested out life abroad before committing to a full-on move

In 2023, my husband and I joined Boundless Life for a three-month cohort in Portugal. Before we left, we took a few steps to prepare.

I kept my job in the travel and hospitality industry while my husband took a three-month sabbatical. To make living abroad more affordable while maintaining a home base in the US, we downsized and moved from Austin to Houston.

We rented a one-bedroom apartment, converting the living room into a bedroom for us and the bedroom into a nursery for our daughter. The rent was $1,410 a month.

When we moved to Portugal, the company provided us with a one-bedroom apartment for $1,572 a month, a schooling program for $1,518, and a coworking space for $488.

We were likely spending the same or a bit more since we were still maintaining our apartment in the US, but our quality of life improved tremendously.

We had more freedom in Portugal

We were pleasantly surprised by how amazing our experience in Portugal was. We lived in Lisbon, which felt like San Francisco but with cleaner streets.

We could walk to everything we needed, and the slower pace of life was refreshing. Most people we encountered, especially the younger generation and those in hospitality, spoke English, making it easy to navigate.

The cost of living in Portugal was significantly lower than in major US cities. Little daily pleasures, like getting a coffee or pastry without worrying about money or driving, made a big difference.

Being in the European time zone was great for personal growth. I worked as a luxury concierge, helping people plan vacations in Europe during Eastern Standard Time hours, which meant I didn't start work until 2 p.m.

The Boundless Life program also provided childcare, which allowed my husband and me to have time for ourselves — me to work on my business and him to work out or handle personal tasks.

After two weeks in Portugal, we knew we'd made the right decision and were ready for bigger changes.

My husband and I became digital nomads

After returning to the US from Portugal, we put everything in storage by the end of June 2023 for about $170 a month. We moved out of our place and joined Noma Collective, a similar program to Boundless Life, in Belize for about a month before heading to Greece.

In Greece, we joined another Boundless Life program in Syros where we had a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment for about $2,006 a month. The city was truly one of the most magical places we've ever been — who wouldn't want to live on a beautiful island in the middle of the Aegean Sea?

After the program ended, we returned to the US but moved back to Greece in the spring of 2024. Within two weeks of being there, we applied for digital nomad visas and officially received our residency cards in June 2024.

Now, we live in a two-bedroom, two-bath home in Syros, Greece, paying $1,464 a month. The summer months are complicated with tourism — it's hot and crowded — so we rent our home to visitors and stay away during that time. Last year, we spent the summer in Albania.

Overall, our monthly living expenses in Europe are about the same as in the US. However, instead of allocating money towards things like insurance or a $450 car payment, we now put that $450 towards paying off our credit card debt.

My husband left his job and is now a full-time stay-at-home dad. I now work full-time as a contractor for an American company and earn income through content creation.

Before, I was an established food blogger, documenting my life through food on Instagram. It was an easy transition to add travel to my content. People are fascinated by our everyday activities, like laundry and grocery shopping, and enjoy seeing what life is like in a different part of the world.

I have several income streams, which can vary from month to month. These include brand sponsorships — often three- to six-month contracts — YouTube AdSense, blogging, and other platforms. However, our biggest source of income comes from digital products; I help people move abroad through eBooks, courses, and one-on-one coaching.

Our quality of life has improved in Europe

A big reason we gravitated toward Portugal and Greece is because of the local attitudes.

The people are welcoming, kind, and genuinely hospitable. As a Black woman, I often feel like I'm being watched in the States. In Europe, I feel liberated and able just to be myself.

Another huge difference for me is the absence of gun violence. The first time I went grocery shopping in Portugal, I felt a sense of relief and could finally let my guard down, free from the constant tension I often experience in public spaces in the US.

Watching my daughter grow has been incredible, too.

She's three now, knows words in multiple languages, and has experienced traditions like Portugal's Carnival.

But the biggest takeaway I hope she gets from living abroad in places like Portugal and Greece is kindness. I can't count how often strangers have helped me just because they saw I had a little one with me.

The biggest change for us living in Europe has been building a community.

As digital nomads, it's tough to leave behind a support network, but we've made many friends, both locals and fellow nomads, wherever we've lived. In the US, everything was go-go, and I had to plan lunch dates months ahead. But it's much easier here, especially since many of our friends have the same flexible schedule.

We plan to stay in Greece year-round but travel during the summer. This works well for us, as we want to explore and plant roots. After five years, we'll be eligible for permanent citizenship through Greece's digital nomad visa.

This summer, we're planning to spend a few months in Tbilisi, Georgia, to see if we can establish a second home base.

• Many Americans tell Business Insider how they moved abroad for more affordable and fulfilling lives.
• Mercer consultants identified cities that offer low costs of living and a high quality of life.
• The eight spots range from Old-World gems in Eastern Europe to a Canadian hub for food and culture.

As inflation continues to drive up the cost of everyday necessities, more Americans are looking abroad, hoping to find places where their money goes further and life is sweeter.

But where to go?

Researchers at HR and financial consulting firm Mercer analyzed over 200 everyday expenses, including housing, food, healthcare, and entertainment, in 226 cities worldwide to identify the most and least expensive spots. Mercer also weighed safety, infrastructure, environmental friendliness, and connectivity to determine eight cities in Europe, Asia, and the Americas that offer a balance of low living costs and high living standards.

To give readers a feel for day-to-day expenses in each city, Business Insider used cost-of-living data from Numbeo. Numbeo combines user-submitted spending figures with data from government institutions and service companies to estimate prices for various things, such as what it would cost a single person or a family to live in the city center. It also provides typical prices for everyday items like coffee, a meal for two, and a gym membership. While the methodology relies on crowdsourced data, which may vary widely, it can be a useful tool for getting a general sense of what it costs to live around the world.

Read on to learn more about eight cities that offer opportunities to live both cheaply and well, according to Mercer. They are presented in alphabetical order.

Business Insider used the latest population estimates from Demographia for all cities except Ljubljana, which uses a Slovenian government estimate. Numbeo expenses have been converted from local currency into US dollars.

Budapest, Hungary

Population: 2.407 million

Known for: Budapest is the largest city in Hungary and the nation's capital. It's known for its Gothic architecture, bohemian nightlife, and historic thermal baths.

Average monthly rent for a one-bedroom home in the city center: $670

Monthly costs for a single person (excluding housing): $704.40

Monthly costs for a family of four (excluding housing): $2,490.90

Cost of a cappuccino: $2.49

Cost of a three-course meal for two: $52.34

Monthly cost of a gym membership: $54.72

Someone who lives there said: Budapest has a vibrant social atmosphere all year long, according to Sabrina Arnold, who lived there for four months. "There are so many things to do, even in the winter and summer. In the summer, there's lots of street food, festivals, lots of concerts and music, or you can just chill next to the river," she said in a YouTube video posted in late 2023. "In the winter, there's lots of Christmas markets and ice rinks."

It might be hard to live there because: That hustle and bustle may not be for everyone. "It's very touristy. There's always a lot going on in the city especially on the weekends. If you don't like that, then Budapest might not be right for you," Arnold said in her video.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Population: 9.387 million

Known for: The capital of Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur is known for its rich multiculturalism, blending native cultures along with Indian, Chinese, and Western influences. The city, nicknamed KL, goes all out for major festivals including Diwali and Lunar New Year.

Average monthly rent for a one-bedroom home in the city center: $499.60

Monthly costs for a single person (excluding housing): $573.90

Monthly costs for a family of four (excluding housing): $2,035.40

Cost of a cappuccino: $2.89

Cost of a three-course meal for two: $27.13

Monthly cost of a gym membership: $43.56

Someone who lives there said: Kuala Lumpur's range of cultures translates to an unbeatable food scene. "A city after my own heart, the best activity in KL has to be eating! Malaysians love their food, and so do expats! Thanks to the diversity of the city, you'll find Malaysian, Indian and Chinese food all over, as well as western options and everything in between," blogger Lynne Lessar wrote in a post about living in Kuala Lumpur.

It might be hard to live there because: It can require some patience, especially with items and etiquette more common in other parts of the world. "The entertainment industry isn't exactly supported in Malaysia and alcohol is relatively expensive for the region," Lessar wrote. "Still, there are pockets of great nightlife and plenty of great things to do. Just bear in mind that Malaysia is not known for customer service, so keep your spirit light and patience high while you're out, as service takes time here."

Ljubljana, Slovenia

Population: 288,382

Known for: Ljubljana is the largest city and capital of Slovenia, a country located just east of Italy and sandwiched between Austria and Croatia. Ljubljana stands out for its charm and ease compared to other major European cities that get more flooded with tourists.

Average monthly rent for a one-bedroom home in the city center: $931.11

Monthly costs for a single person (excluding housing): $885.40

Monthly costs for a family of four (excluding housing): $3,023.90

Cost of a cappuccino: $2.34

Cost of a three-course meal for two: $63

Monthly cost of a gym membership: $45.45

Someone who lives there said: Aaron Arnold — who moved from Texas to Slovenia, where he lives as an expat — maintains that Ljubljana is one of Europe's best-kept secrets. "Although Ljubljana is growing in the tourism world, it's definitely not as big of a place like Budapest. I think of all the European capital cities that I know — Ljubljana is much more chill and more of a hidden gem," Arnold said in a YouTube video.

It might be hard to live there because: Adapting to Slovenian culture can be an adjustment for Americans, in part because locals may not be especially welcoming right off the bat, Arnold said in a different video. "I didn't actually make a friend from Slovenia until three weeks after my arrival," Arnold added.

Montreal, Canada

Population: 3.75 million

Known for: Montreal is a French-Canadian hub known for its vibrant cafés, nightlife, and packed schedule of summer festivals. The city is also dotted with historic architecture and European-style sights.

Average monthly rent for a one-bedroom home in the city center: $1,201.41

Monthly costs for a single person (excluding housing): $973.10

Monthly costs for a family of four (excluding housing): $3,593

Cost of a cappuccino: $3.52

Cost of a three-course meal for two: $69.93

Monthly cost of a gym membership: $37.12

Someone who lives there said: Montreal is a epicenter of vibrant culture. "No matter which neighborhood you live in, you're guaranteed that a trendy local spot is just around the corner," writer Rosemary Twomey said on the Montreal site MTLblog.com.

It might be hard to live there because: Winters are no joke in Montreal — the city averages 85 inches of snow a year. "Although the snow that never seems to disappear is one of the downfalls of Montreal, the city and the people in it are always up to the challenge of having fun in the cold," Twomey wrote.

Panama City

Population: 2.067 million

Known for: Panama City is the capital of Panama. It is known for its coastal lifestyle and, of course, its eponymous canal, which connects the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans.

Average monthly rent for a one-bedroom home in the city center: $1,050

Monthly costs for a single person (excluding housing): $831

Monthly costs for a family of four (excluding housing): $2,965.1

Cost of a cappuccino: $3.50

Cost of a three-course meal for two: $55

Monthly cost of a gym membership: $47.43

Someone who lives there said: "The city, Latin America's answer to Miami, is a place where towering skyscrapers meet the ocean, and palm trees sway to the rhythm of a unique cultural blend — Spanish vibes with various splashes of indigenous, African, North American and Caribbean influences," according to a blog post from the Nomad Capitalist, a site with advice and information for people who can work remotely and want to live abroad.

It might be hard to live there because: Panama City's laid-back vibe may be a good thing most of the time. However, expats have shared online that things get done at a slower pace than they're used to.

Santiago, Chile

Population: 7.099 million

Known for: Santiago's modern city center stands in contrast to the craggy Andes mountains in the distance.

Average monthly rent for a one-bedroom home in the city center: $503.71

Monthly costs for a single person (excluding housing): $729.50

Monthly costs for a family of four (excluding housing): $2,581.6

Cost of a cappuccino: $3.05

Cost of a three-course meal for two: $52.98

Monthly cost of a gym membership: $35.18

Someone who lives there said: "Santiago's mountainous backdrop makes for one dramatic skyline. I've lived here for a year and a half now, and (when I can see them) these mountains still surprise me every day," Lauren on Location, who calls herself a serial expat, said in a 2017 blog post.

It might be hard to live there because: Santiago is located on the San Ramón Fault and experiences somewhat frequent earthquakes. According to Earthquake Track, the city had 43 earthquakes in the last 365 days.

Warsaw, Poland

Population: 2.028 million

Known for: Warsaw is Poland's capital and most populous city. It has a rich history and many cultural attractions.

Average monthly rent for a one-bedroom home in the city center: $1,052.87

Monthly costs for a single person (excluding housing): $820.20

Monthly costs for a family of four (excluding housing): $2,694.10

Cost of a cappuccino: $3.94

Cost of a three-course meal for two: $50.54

Monthly cost of a gym membership: $39.55

Someone who lives there said: "First and foremost, Warsaw has got some lovely parks and plenty of museums," Richard Blanks, a native of Great Britain living in Poland, said in a blog post about Warsaw life as an expat. "There's no chance that you'll get bored here easily."

It might be hard to live there because: Warsaw can have stretches of fiercely cold temperatures. "The weather can be a significant drawback, with cold and long winters, and relatively short summers," Joshua Wood said on Expat Exchange, a site he cofounded.

Zagreb, Croatia

Population: 691,000

Known for: Zagreb is a city where Central Europe, the Mediterranean, and Southeast Europe meet.

Average monthly rent for a one-bedroom home in the city center: $748.67

Monthly costs for a single person (excluding housing): $797.50

Monthly costs for a family of four (excluding housing): $2,768

Cost of a cappuccino: $2.18

Cost of a three-course meal for two: $62.87

Monthly cost of a gym membership: $42.35

Someone who lives there said: "Zagreb is the cultural, political, and economic hub of Croatia. While it might be overshadowed by the Adriatic's coastal gems, this city has its own allure: grand Austro-Hungarian architecture, sprawling parks, and a blend of old-world charm and contemporary dynamism," Jonelle Simunich. a California native with Croatian heritage who has lived in cities around the world, wrote in a blog post.

It might be hard to live there because: Zagreb is heavily reliant on tourism, according to blogger Nicola Curtis, and some local businesses shut down during low season. "Most of the bars and restaurants close down from the end of October until the beginning of April, and while it's a chilled-out time, it can be a little boring at times," she wrote.

• Shawna Lum, 31, knew the American obsession with climbing the career ladder wasn't for her.
• In 2016, Lum moved to Spain to escape the rat race and carve out her own path.
• In Spain, she is happier, spends less money on housing, and has started her own business.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Shawna Lum, a 31-year-old from Los Angeles who moved to Spain in 2016. She founded Move Overseas Now, a company that helps people move to Europe and Latin America. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

I'm originally from Los Angeles but went to Washington State University. In 2015, I moved to Spain for a semester to study abroad, and that experience completely changed me.

During my six months in Spain, I fell in love with Europe. The ability to travel so easily — like catching a round-trip flight from Bilbao, the city in northern Spain where I was living, to Amsterdam for just $80 or London for $100 — was incredible.

On top of that, the community and my social life were amazing. Going out for tapas, enjoying a glass of wine, and having a meal was so affordable compared to the US. I also loved the walking culture; there's no need for a car. That's something I never realized I was missing until I lived there.

After my studies in Spain, I returned to the US and worked in corporate jobs for about a year and a half, first in Texas, then in Chicago and Louisiana. Throughout that time, I couldn't shake the memory of my time in Spain.

The typical American dream wasn't resonating with me — the "checklist" of getting a corporate job, saving for a house, and getting married. I asked myself, "Why must I follow this path?"

I moved to Europe and came to terms with some downsides of American life

At the end of 2016, I moved to Spain and have been living here ever since.

When I first moved here, visa options were limited. There are many more now, like digital nomad visas and passive income visas for retirees. Back then, a student visa was my best option.

Although I didn't want to go back to school, I decided to pursue a master's in entrepreneurship and innovation in Barcelona. After completing my degree, I kept renewing my visa.

Along the way, I started doing side hustles and diving into digital marketing. I eventually realized I didn't have to work for others and launched a web design agency.

In 2021, my dad was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer, so I returned to Los Angeles to take care of him. He passed away shortly after.

While grieving, I also became frustrated about life in the US. Coming back to the States was a tough adjustment. I started noticing the toxic culture — people seemed unhappy with their lives, and many of my high school friends were on antidepressants. It also felt like everything revolved around money, even healthcare.

I missed the sense of connection and community I had experienced In Spain. Living overseas showed me that life could be different — the stress levels and the divide between work and home were much more balanced.

I felt like many people could resonate with my reasoning. So, when I returned to Spain, I started Move Overseas Now, a business that helps others make their moves.

I help other people move abroad

As a relocation coach, I help people move permanently to Europe and Latin America through online master classes that outline the steps.

Most people who sign up for my courses are 35 and older with established careers, freelancing or working on a 1099.

Affordability is a huge reason my clients move abroad, especially retirees on fixed incomes. Many of them find that in countries like Spain, Portugal, Italy, France, the Netherlands, Mexico, Costa Rica, Colombia, and Panama, they can live comfortably on their Social Security check — something that isn't possible for them in the US.

In Spain, you can rent a nice one-bedroom in a midsize city for about $650 to $980 a month or under $1,300 in the major cities. In Panama, some of my clients live in beautiful condos just steps from the sea with two balconies and air conditioning in an expat-friendly community for around $900 a month. Private healthcare is also a game changer: Many clients pay just $80 to $200 a month for coverage, with no copays or deductibles.

By spending less on housing, healthcare, and daily expenses, they experience more freedom, less stress, and a better quality of life — things they feel are out of reach in the US.

I don't see myself ever living in the US again

I feel like my life has improved living abroad.

I always felt different in the US, like I didn't fit in. Everything has fallen into place in Europe. I married my husband, who has permanent residency in Spain. Through him, I was granted a partnership visa, also known as a family reunification visa.

During COVID, we lived in a friend's guest house in France for about five months. We also spent six months as digital nomads in Asia, living in Thailand, Nepal, and mostly India. Overall, it was an incredible journey.

Right now, we're renting a one-bedroom, one-bathroom duplex just outside Barcelona's city center for 300 euros, or about $314, a month. We got a great deal because we know the landlord. We're planning to buy a home eventually, so for now, we're focused on saving up for that.

Living abroad makes me feel freer. The weather, the greenery, and the greater safety as a woman are all amazing. I also feel better spiritually because interactions feel less competitive and transactional. It's really allowed me to slow down and give myself more grace.

I don't see myself returning to the US — at least not willingly unless it's for an event, like a funeral, or to take care of something serious for a couple of weeks.

• At 23, Hong Kong was Hannah Ho's dream city, until it wasn't.
• She had moved there after graduation but when she turned 30, she knew it was time to move back home.
• She enjoys spending more time with family back in the UK but wants to continue exploring the world.

When I graduated with degrees in business management and Chinese, I didn't have a clear career plan. I just knew I wanted to live abroad.

I had spent two semesters in China — six months studying in Shanghai and six months completing an internship in Qingdao. That year, I took a 5-day trip to Hong Kong, and something about the city's energy and diversity drew me in. I decided I wanted to move there.

So, at 23, I took the leap and moved to Hong Kong. I was excited but also nervous. I was a fresh graduate with no real-world experience and had landed a nine-month job as a project coordinator for an educational foundation.

I thought it would be a short adventure, but I ended up staying for seven years. I transitioned into the recruitment industry and before I knew it, Hong Kong became home. I made a lot of friends and adapted to the city's fast-paced lifestyle.

But my life in Hong Kong began to shift in 2020. During and after the pandemic, the once-bustling city felt gloomy. Over time, I realized that the version of Hong Kong I had fallen in love with was gone. Some of my close friends had left, tourism had slowed down, and the once-thriving social scene had faded with fewer gatherings and events.

As the city changed, so did I. I found myself craving something new, a fresh challenge and the desire for a career change began to grow.

Moving home was hard

In 2023, and after I turned 30, I knew it was time to leave. Moving back home to the UK was not an easy decision. It meant leaving behind the life and career I had built, the friendships I had formed, and a city that had shaped me as a person.

I had never heard anyone talk about how hard it is to move home after being an expat. The truth is, you come back as a different person, shaped by experiences and perspectives that people around you may not fully understand.

Meanwhile, I quickly noticed that things back home had also changed. My parents were older, most of my friends had settled down, and the life I once knew felt both familiar and foreign.

One of the biggest challenges I faced was returning without a professional network. Having left the UK straight after university, I had built my career in Hong Kong. Now, I was essentially starting from scratch.

In Hong Kong, my well-established career provided useful connections. Back in the UK, I had to rebuild everything. I started getting back in touch with old friends and acquaintances, attending networking events, and leveraging LinkedIn to create new opportunities. At times, it was uncomfortable, but I reminded myself that I had done this before — I had built a life from scratch once, and I could do it again.

Not missing Hong Kong's work culture

For the first time in years, I had time to pause and reflect. It was a strange paradox — I had longed for more balance, yet I found myself missing the intensity of my old life.

There's so much I miss about Hong Kong: transporting myself from the hustle and bustle of Central to an island beach or a hiking trail in 30 minutes. I miss the food, the social scene, and the warmer weather. The sense of adventure that came with living in a place where something was always happening.

In Hong Kong, I shared a compact apartment with a roommate in a lively neighborhood. Big-city living meant being surrounded by high-rises and skyscrapers. Now, in Liverpool — a port city about 200 miles northwest of London — I've gone from apartment living to a house with a garden — something that once felt almost impossible in Hong Kong. With more space, fresh air, and quieter surroundings, home now feels more open and relaxed.

Coming back to the UK has brought its own joys. Spending quality time with my family has been a highlight, I notice myself appreciating them now in a way I never did before. I can drop by my sister and brother's places for home-cooked meals, a cup of tea, and just talk about life. These simple moments remind me of the comfort and connection I once took for granted.

I have a car, so I can drive to the countryside instead of relying on public transport.

Adjusting to the UK's work culture has also been refreshing. In Hong Kong, the work ethic was intense — long workdays were the norm, and efficiency was everything. There was a sense of urgency in everything people did. In contrast, the UK has felt more relaxed. The standard 9-to-5 schedule, hybrid/remote working models, and emphasis on work-life balance have been a welcome change.

Most importantly, I've been using this transition as an opportunity to pivot my career. While I still work a part-time job, I've decided to step away from the agency recruitment industry. Now, I'm building an online business that will allow me to work remotely and travel more. Because if there's one thing I've learned, once an expat, always an expat.

It does feel like I'm starting from scratch, but I see it as an opportunity to build something new on my own terms while embracing the lessons and experiences that shaped me abroad.

Got a personal essay about moving home after living abroad that you want to share? Get in touch with the editor: [email protected].

• After booking a trip to Ireland on a whim, I fell in love with the country and also met my husband.
• Years later, we're still together, and we've made a new life for ourselves in Cork.
• I still live in Atlanta part-time, but I love going home to my husband in Ireland.

Several years ago, I dreamed I was walking down the main street of a small town, where I met a nice bookseller and a local witch. In the dream, I kept getting the message to "go to Skibbereen."

When I woke up, my first thought was, "Where the heck is Skibbereen?" I looked it up, and to my delight, it's a real town in West Cork, Ireland.

This isn't the first time I've gleaned information from my dreams, but they rarely provide such literal instructions. Figuring I should listen to the message, I booked a trip for a few months down the line.

Little did I know that my Irish adventure would lead me to my future husband and a new home.

I trusted my gut and eventually got to Skibbereen

My travels first brought me to the city of Cork, where I made friends who helped secure me a ride out to the smaller town of Skibbereen.

As I rode through West Cork, I promised myself that I'd follow my intuition wherever it led without asking questions. I came here because of a dream, so why not follow the path as far as it would go?

Luckily, it led me right to Skibbereen's main street — like my dream, it does, in fact, have a wonderful bookseller and a pagan shop.

I felt welcome, and I kept noticing phoenix symbols throughout the town. It felt like a sign since I'm from Atlanta, and the fictional bird is on our city seal.

As I continued my trip, wandering and exploring more of County Cork, a gut feeling began to grow that this was exactly where I needed to be.

Then, I met the man who would be my future husband

At the time, I had the dating app Bumble on my phone. I happened to open it during my travels and match with a local Irish chef.

We met up for a date, and he was instantly warm, welcoming, and honest. Since we both work with food in some capacity (him as an executive chef, me as a writer, educator, and consultant), we had lots to talk about.

We continued talking online, and after I returned to the US, we officially started dating. With things going well, we arranged to meet back in Ireland three months later.

After a whirlwind romance, we got married last year.

I'm still in awe of my new life

In the years since my trip, I bought a house in Cork, and my husband and I are slowly settling in and making it feel like home.

I still live in Atlanta part time, but I feel like all the different parts of my life have fallen into place.

Whether I'm in Ireland or the US, I pinch myself every day that I get to live this magical life and share it with all the incredible people I've met along the way.

I don't live in Skibbereen (yet), but I still visit. In the future, I hope to move out that way and have a few acres of space to host culinary and writing residencies.

In the meantime, I'm settling into my two-continent lifestyle nicely.

There are still questions to navigate (like the best way to move my cats abroad), and it isn't always smooth sailing. However, so far, it's worth all the challenges, long travel days, and time-zone juggling.

• A couple moved from the US to Morocco for a better lifestyle and work-life balance.
• They work remotely, allowing them time to enjoy the country's late-night culture and leisure.
• They're expecting a baby, so they value Morocco's safety, healthcare, and family-oriented culture.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Arleevia and Ricoyo Lyles. The couple moved from the US to Tangier, Morocco, in November. Arleevia, 26, works in marketing, and Ricoyo, 40, works in finance. Both work remotely in jobs focused on the US, and they're expecting a baby in April. The couple posts on YouTube about their experience living abroad. The following has been edited for brevity and clarity.

Ricoyo: After spending a few days here during our honeymoon, we fell in love with the culture, the people, and the food. I was joking with Arleevia when I asked her, "Hey, what do you think about moving to Morocco?" I didn't think I would get the response that I did. That sparked us going down the rabbit hole of "What if we actually moved here?"

Arleevia: We work remotely, so we thought it was feasible. We didn't own any property in the US. It was simply a conversation with my employer. They said, "As long as you get your work done." Ricoyo has his own financial firm that he had just started, so he's his own employer. So, for him, working remotely wasn't an issue. He works on US Central Standard Time. He works from about 4 p.m. until about 2 or 3 a.m., and he's up by 11 a.m. the next day.

Ricoyo: We were living in Nashville. We had been there for about three years, and then we relocated back to my hometown of Las Vegas right before moving to Morocco.

My biggest concern was, "Am I going to be falling asleep talking with clients?" But we've adjusted to it. It's almost turned into an evening-type position. It's funny because the culture here is kind of a late-night culture anyway. At night, there are still people in the cafés drinking coffee and going out to restaurants. My schedule almost fits with the vibe of the city.

Arleevia: We're still able to go out, explore the city, and hang out with friends in the afternoon if we want to. I work in the morning and often close out in the evening because I'm not on as many client calls as he is. We've been able to acclimate and socialize.

They have a healthy work-life balance here. Yes, they work very hard, but also they believe in leisure and rest. You see a lot of people out during the day — at cafés drinking tea together. A lot of men will be out, and they'll go back to work. Having that kind of influence has been very helpful for us to be like, "OK, we can take a break from work." We don't have to grind, grind, grind, like we did in the US.

Ricoyo: The priority of family feels like it's so much higher on the list. Even just seeing families out and about is a super-calming thing. We went to a park the other day, and we were thinking, "When was the last time we saw this many kids at a park?"

From the standpoint of raising a child here, that would be a great thing for our daughter.

From a safety and crime standpoint, it's a very low crime rate.

Arleevia: When it comes to gun violence, especially, we don't have to think about that. We just feel a lot safer.

Also, the healthcare is amazing. We had to find a gynecologist. We were not expecting it to be as amazing as it was. I've had the most thorough doctor experience of my life. In the US, my appointments for baby checkups would be five to 15 minutes, on average. Here, we spent 45 minutes to an hour with our doctor. She was so thorough, cared so much, and was deeply invested in answering every question I had.

Ricoyo: I was always conditioned that it doesn't get better than the US, that nowhere else has the luxuries that we have in the US. Yet in terms of the lifestyle, in Morocco the food quality, for example, seems so much better.

Arleevia: Even when it comes to customer service and how they treat people, it's with such respect and care — and they make sure that everybody feels supported. I feel like that comes through in people being able to take time away from work and spending time with their family.

Ricoyo: I set my own schedule, and sometimes Arleevia will be like, "Hey, babe, maybe don't book as many meetings today. Let's go and do something and explore a little bit." So, she kind of keeps me grounded. Otherwise, I'll work the day away.

There are other differences. For example, in terms of race, it's not something that you're thinking about as soon as you meet somebody. Here, they seem to think more in nationality, if anything. They're thinking, "Are you from Senegal? Are you from the US?" Even then, many people seem to love other countries.

Going back to safety: As a Black man, that's something that I always had in the back of my mind. Being here, we don't have to think about that as much, if at all. It's been nice to just interact human-to-human and then try to connect with your experience versus the stereotype behind your skin color.

In the US, when a complete stranger approaches me, it's kind of like I'm on guard. But here, you just meet some of the most amazing people who take time out of their day. They'll be like, "Hey, let me show you something around here." I find myself having to lower my defenses. I will stop and spend time and talk to them and enjoy cups of tea.

When my friends ask me what it's like living here, I think of it as a one-sentence answer: "This reminds me of the good old days." It feels like time has really slowed down. You're really able to take time out of your day and — not to be cheesy — really smell the roses.

Arleevia: There's a heightened level of respect for people here, especially with me being pregnant. There's so much care around that. Men are like, "Hey, take a seat. I can help you with your luggage."

We see often — and this is something very different — if an older person is trying to cross the road, somebody that's much younger will come and assist them. They don't even know them from Adam, but they'll go and walk across the road to make sure that they get across safely. That's something that you see in old movies, but that's a common practice here.

Arleevia: We want to be here for several years because we've moved so much. It'd be ideal to stay for three to five years. Even if it's not in Tangier, we would be open to living in another country. We definitely see this as a long-term living abroad.

Not having a church has probably been the most difficult thing for us to get acclimated to. Morocco is a predominantly Muslim country. There are Christian churches around, but it's tough to find them.

Being away from family is obviously also hard. We miss them dearly. The language barrier has probably been the other tough thing. But outside that, it's been a very easy transition for us.

Ricoyo: The best things in life are often outside our comfort zone. People always talk about how it would be great to travel the world, to see other places, and to experience other cultures. This is making that a reality.

• I spent nine months traveling the world, and although I had a great time, I wouldn't do it again.
• Because I was on a tight budget, I often found myself turning down cool experiences to save money.
• I also struggled to make genuine friendships and missed having a space to call my own.

When I was working remotely in 2021, my boyfriend and I packed up and traveled to 22 countries across Europe and Latin America.

Although these were some of the best days of my life, I quickly learned that a lot of the videos I saw on social media that glorified full-time travel didn't always showcase the downfalls of the lifestyle.

More and more people are becoming digital nomads — countries like Italy have even implemented specific visas for remote workers. However, during my nine months abroad, I learned that the lifestyle isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Here's why I wouldn't travel full time again.

I kept looking for places and experiences that felt like home

While traveling full time, I found myself constantly looking for places and experiences that felt like home.

In some ways, it was cool to feel like a local in a new city. However, when I returned home and took shorter vacations, I started to value the places I was visiting for their differences rather than trying to find some semblance of home.

Nowadays, I like having a home base. Shorter trips help me to break up the monotony of life without sacrificing the comfort of home.

It felt like I was constantly thinking about money

When I was traveling full-time, I was on a strict budget. I either drained my wallet or ate cheap food to maintain some sort of financial security while on the road.

I talked myself out of going to every museum I wanted to and purchased cheap meals for dinner instead of indulging in local cuisine that might have been out of my budget.

The moments I would slip up on my spending were when I forgot this wasn't a never-ending vacation, but rather, my new everyday life.

During the first two weeks of our trip, I wanted to go to all of the must-try restaurants in Paris. However, I soon realized that came at the cost of establishing a strict daily budget for the remainder of our three weeks there.

Of course, it was worth it in the end to save money so I could travel for nine months. However, now that I take a few shorter trips a year, I have more flexibility to make them everything I want them to be.

My friendships at home changed, and the new ones I made were fleeting

I think what travelers yearn for the most is community. When I was traveling, it was really hard to find the same quality of friends I have at home.

When I did meet friends abroad, it was often short-lived. I found that many people traveling full time were only in a city for a few days. Even when I did find someone I connected with, it was hard to maintain a long-distance friendship.

Traveling full time also took a lot out of my friendships at home, as it seemed like they learned to live without me.

When I returned home, it felt like we didn't have as much in common as we used to. It took me months to get my friendships back to where they were before I left.

I missed having a space to call my own

While traveling, I stayed in 25 different places across nine months. Although seeing so many new places was cool, I missed having a space to call my own.

After spending so many nights in beds that weren't my own, it was an indescribable feeling to come back home. In fact, when I got back, I was able to create a space that took inspiration from the places I'd been.

I think traveling is something everyone should prioritize, but there are ways to see the world that don't involve doing it full time.

Nowadays, I plan to take at least four international trips a year, ranging from one to two weeks. This allows me to live a travel-filled life without giving up the comforts of home, career, and relationships.

This story was originally published on April 26, 2024, and most recently updated on January 9, 2025.

• 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."

• 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.

• 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

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].