What a tour of retirement villages abroad taught me about where I want to grow old

What a tour of retirement villages abroad taught me about where I want to grow old Lavish food, superb amenities and all-day karaoke at a fraction of the cost of retiring in Singapore. While the perks of spending one's golden years abroad might be tempting, CNA's Renald Loh says there's more to consider. Last year, my mother retired from a career in banking that spanned 40 years. I no longer live with her, but from what I can tell, she's livin' la vida loca – Spanish for "living the crazy life" – however "loca" a Singaporean in her 60s can get. She's been on five holidays in the past 12 months. She volunteers at a neighbourhood hospital. She's also been learning to cook and making the most of her Friends of Mandai Senior membership by acquainting herself with the winged residents at Bird Paradise every month. While retirement is realistically still a long, long way off for this 30-year-old, my mother's post-corporate adventures got me thinking seriously about how I would like to go about my septuagenarian life. Where would I want to live, and how would I want to fill my days? In Singapore, perhaps the most aspirational vision of that is Perennial Living, a luxury assisted living development along Parry Avenue launching this year with the kind of amenities that make you forget you're looking at aged care. There's a rehabilitation and wellness centre on-site, a 1.5ha adjoining park as your garden and a private lift to your doorstep. But its suites cost between S$8,900 (US$6,900) and S$17,000 a month. So unless I start making bank soon or perhaps win the lottery, I don't think I'll be spending my last years in luxury. Look abroad, however, and it feels like you can get more bang for your buck. For instance, there's Johor Bahru just across the Causeway, where one in three Singaporeans say they may eventually retire, according to a 2024 survey by Blackbox Research and Qualtrics. In fact, retirement villages across Southeast Asia told me they've been experiencing what they call a "Singaporean tsunami" of inquiries in recent years, with some receiving anywhere from 15 to 40 in a month. A suite in a repurposed five-star hotel in central Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, runs to about RM9,900 (S$3,200) a month, while a Swiss-owned premium residence in Chiang Mai, Thailand, starts at around US$3,300. Both offer assisted living services with exceptional service to boot. So it's no surprise that these retirement villages report growing interest from Singaporeans looking to make the most of their nest eggs. Last year, I visited about a dozen such senior living facilities across Southeast Asia in my role as a reporter. With every senior I interviewed at each facility, I pictured myself in their shoes and observed them a little more keenly than what my job required. Visa issues notwithstanding – might a retirement village overseas be a good fit for me? SWISS ALPS IN CHIANG MAI Many of these retirement villages know how to appeal to potential clients. One in Seremban, Malaysia had a pristine pool with a view of a glorious hill; another in Thailand would build a custom patio for you if you requested it. Everything you could possibly want in your old age is provided. In many instances, I was sold. But not everyone I came across looked like they were living the dream. I recall seeing some solo foreign nationals tucking into their farm-fresh gourmet meals or sitting alone on their patio, perhaps longing for some connection. The most common question that retirement village operators hear from potential overseas clients is: "Are there people from my home country living there too?" And if the answer is no, that interest often wanes. At one particular Swiss-owned luxury retirement village in Chiang Mai, around half of its residents are, unsurprisingly, Swiss nationals. Plastered along the walls of the main lobby are large paintings of the Swiss Alps and photographs of the Swiss city of Bern – little anchors of home while thousands of kilometres away from it. The most common question that retirement village operators hear from potential overseas clients is: "Are there people from my home country living there too?" At another Thai retirement village, I met a man in his eighties. He was born in China but lived in Canada for 60 years, and spent a long time searching for a place to retire in the West before choosing to settle in Chiang Mai. He spoke to me in fluent English for about an hour until he found out I could speak Mandarin too. I remember the way his face lit up when he realised we could continue our conversation in his native tongue. WHERE WILL I RETIRE? Of all the seniors I spoke to for my assignment, I resonated the most with the first one. Madam Khoo Mei Mei, also 83, left Penang in 1969, spent a year in the United Kingdom, and the next 55 years in Switzerland. In May last year, she returned to her hometown to live in a retirement village. I asked her why. "I am a Penangite and Penang is my home," she said. "So I decided to come back." I understand what she means. Sure, I could definitely see myself in some of these beautiful places, living a life filled with luxury. However, I know it wouldn't be long before I'd start to miss my kaya toast, soft-boiled eggs and thick, milky teh for breakfast. And even if I could somehow get those treats abroad, it just wouldn't be the same without the smattering of Singlish in the background and the coffee shop mynahs hovering at my feet. It's not just the familiarity I want in my post-career life – it's also about what I want to do after retirement. In many of the senior living facilities I visited, a key perk was the abundance of daily activities for seniors. I managed to observe them watching movies, singing karaoke and hollering "bingo!" by the foyer. It seemed like fun, but it also sounded like a life where the biggest decision I'd make each day would be whether to pick the fish or the chicken at the catering line. I can’t quite imagine a passive existence like that, no matter how old I get. Does true comfort in one's golden years boil down only to choosing the smoothest, shiniest path? WHAT I WANT MY RETIREMENT TO LOOK LIKE There's a coffee shop near my old Housing and Development Board flat that I used to visit every day after school to buy min jiang kueh – traditional Chinese pancakes typically filled with crushed peanuts. The aunty there watched me grow from a seven-year-old to a young adult. I've since moved, but every so often I go back just to buy pancakes from her. On some visits, she's not there, and I panic, wondering if it's finally the day she decided to hang up the spatula. I feel it most clearly in those moments: I want to take over her legacy and be the one to make pancakes for the kids walking home from school. To be clear, I don't actually know how to make min jiang kueh, but I'm convinced I could make a go of it after years of watching the process up close. I would just need to figure out how to make the batter. That would be my version of a good retirement – becoming an integral part of a regular suburban neighbourhood in my home country, while keeping both my mind and body active. In many ways, it's what my mother is already doing with her current lifestyle of travelling, volunteering and learning new skills. It feels slightly ironic that it took a tour around Southeast Asia for me to realise that I'd like to live out my final years in the very same place that made my early ones so rich and full. So it looks like I don't need a lavish retirement village. Sometimes, the simple life can be the most fulfilling one. Renald Loh is a journalist at CNA Digital Verification. [Image text:] HAINANESE CHICKEN RICE NASILEMAK INDIAN DELIGHTS