If I were hit by a bus, I can imagine my wife eventually venturing back onto the dating scene. But I'm pretty sure she wouldn't date a writer. I can hear the checklist in her head right now: adventurous, check; handsome, check; caring, check; intelligent, check; writer…oh shit. Writing is an anti‐social gig. The best part (for me, anyway) is gleaning stories from people that I can share and learn from. But then, as all writers do, I spend thousands of hours trying to make sense of it all. Only 0.01 percent of authors earn enough compensation to exceed a minimum hourly wage. I made that up. But it's probably true.

So, I have to thank my wife, Pele Hallam‐Young, for helping me with this book. She encouraged me. She helped with edits and ideas. And she worked tirelessly as my time manager, taking on tasks that I was “too busy” to do because I was writing a book. OK, so writing this thing did have some perks.

I would also like to thank the publishing team at John Wiley & Sons, with an especially deep bow to Kevin Harreld. I don't really know what to call Kevin. Is he my publisher? My editor? My marketing specialist? After writing that last sentence, I looked up his title on LinkedIn (and no, I'm not lying). It reads, Senior Acquisitions Editor. All I know is that he's my man on the ground at John Wiley & Sons who seems to put everything into motion.

Thanks also to John S. Woerth, Senior Communications Advisor at Vanguard. John always helps me with charts and he cheerleads my efforts. He's one of those behind‐the‐scenes brilliant guys whom Vanguard founder, John Bogle often praised. John Woerth also co‐wrote More Straight Talk on Investing, with former Vanguard CEO, John J. Brennan.

Thank you, also, to Vanguard's Mike Nolan, who John introduced me to. Upon request, Mike sent me charts faster than I could make my next cup of tea.

I would also like to thank the American fee‐based financial advisor Tony Noto. He was my go‐to guy for information on US taxes, with respect to IRAs for American expats. The Australian financial advisor, Jarrad Brown, also helped me with tax information for Australian expats. Thank you for your help, Jarrad.

Several Financial Independence (FI) warriors also deserve my heartfelt thanks. Several years ago, I met the impossibly good‐looking Sebastien Aguilar in Dubai. He founded SimplyFI a UAE‐based financial education group. Jen Lincoln began a Facebook group by that name and encouraged reams of people to join and organize events with Sebastien and his FI‐minded friends. This is now the largest FI‐oriented expat organization in the world. I profiled several of the group's members in this book. I couldn't include everyone who volunteered their time and stories, but I wish I could. Reading posts from SimplyFI's Facebook group continues to help me understand what questions people have.

The group includes several warriors for the cause, of which there are far too many to list. But I want to acknowledge Tuan Phan, whose name alone likely draws shivers from the creeps who sell investment linked assurance schemes. The tireless Facebook poster and presenter might know more about these products than anyone in the Middle East. He knows far, far more, in fact, than the people who sell them. I'd bet my portfolio on that.

Elie Irani and Steve Cronin are also indefatigable activators who inspire me to keep moving forward. Elie created a fabulous Getting Started Guide for the SimplyFI community and Steve (who organized my first public talk in Dubai) continues to help people on the Facebook group, and with his blog and workshops at, Dead Simple Saving.

To say I've also been inspired by PlanVision's Mark Zoril is a serious understatement. After introducing Mark to the expat community, he has worked tirelessly as an angel on their behalf. Knowing how many thousands of people Mark has helped also pushes me to try and keep up.

If there's something I want to convey more than anything else, it's this: we need each other. I'm not just talking about writing a book or managing money. We can all help each other in every capacity: socially, physically, emotionally and financially. So thank you, everyone, who contributed to inspire and help me. I'll keep doing my best to pay that forward.

Our taxi crawled along the 3‐lane highway. But from what I could see, Egyptians don't care much for lanes. Five cars squeezed, side‐by‐side, along a road designed for three cars abreast. I wondered if there was an accident ahead or whether this was normal mid‐afternoon traffic. We were on the outskirts of Cairo, Egypt, driving into the old city. “Hey, check this out!” my wife laughed. Ahead of us, to our right, a bus driver yelled at a guy in a car. It was hot, and our taxi's air‐conditioner was on its last legs. But at least now we had entertainment to keep our minds off the heat and the clogged traffic jam.

Tempers soared between the two drivers. And when the clogged traffic stopped, each guy sprang from his vehicle to wage a verbal war. Fueled by anger, they gesticulated and spat as they screamed at one another. I thought a physical fight would start. But before it could, passengers in the bus began screaming at their driver because, in his rush to jump from the bus, he had forgotten to pull his emergency brake.

Traffic was now moving, and the driverless bus gained speed on the downhill grade. The driver then sprinted for his bus, barely getting to the door and jumping in. He slammed on the brakes and averted smashing into a stopped car ahead.

Almost every traveler has a story (or ten) to share. The world, after all, is filled with wondrous sites, people, cultures and quirks. But expats witness far more than most. When choosing to leave their home countries, they enter other worlds. Some prefer ultra‐modern cities like Hong Kong, Singapore or Dubai. Others seek African, Asian or South American cities with a bit more grit. These often contrast old ways of life with a growing modern touch. You might see a woman in Hanoi, Vietnam driving a top‐of‐the line Mercedes Benz, followed by a guy carrying a fridge on the back of his scooter. Plenty of expats move from place‐to‐place. Others settle down, sometimes moving to Europe from North America, Australia, New Zealand or South Africa.

But expats often face financial risks when moving overseas.

You might wonder what I'm smoking if you're on a cushy expat package. After all, there's a large league of expats in Southeast Asia and the Middle East who make bucket loads of cash.

They left their home countries to teach at international schools or work abroad in industries such as banking, information technology, oil, cosmetics, pharmaceuticals, and shipping. Many work for firms like Coca‐Cola, Facebook, American Express, Johnson & Johnson, Google, Microsoft, and Exxon Mobil.

Not all expats (including millions in Europe) make massive sums of money. But even those that do face financial risks.

In 2003, when I left Canada to teach in Singapore, I kissed good‐bye to a defined benefit pension. Had I continued with my former job, I could have paid off a home, contributed modestly to investments, and received pensionable income for life.

By comparison, most expats run naked. Many don't realize they would need more than a million dollars in the stock market or multiple mortgage‐free rental properties just to equal, for example, the retirement benefits earned by most public‐sector workers in the United States, Britain, Australia, or Canada.

Such benefits are globally waning. But they're still a reality. Governments offer additional monthly cash: Social Security (for Americans), Canadian Pension Plan for Canadians. In fact, most developed world countries offer retirement benefits for their respective home‐country workers. But it's different for expats. Few expats contribute to their home‐country social programs once they've moved abroad. Without maximizing contributions to these plans, they can't fully open their mouths to such morsels once they've retired.

One of my former colleagues learned this the hard way. She's American. But she taught overseas for most of her career, so she contributed little to US Social Security. While working abroad, she earned a lot of money. She furnished her large apartment with fine carpets. She bought beautiful jewelry. She enjoyed flashy holidays—often flying business class to five‐star resorts. Unfortunately, she didn't save much. Today, my friend is back in the United States, renting a room in somebody else's home. She's 73 years old and struggling far below the US poverty line. As Warren Buffett says, you only know who's swimming naked when the tide goes out.

In sharp contrast, I also taught with a couple that retired with about $5 million in their investment account. That's a lot of money—especially for teachers. They paid for their two daughters to go to college. They own a mortgage‐free home. They lived well as expats and retired fully clothed. But they were great planners.

In this book's first two editions, I described the most common investment products sold to expats in Asia, Africa and the Middle East. These rank among the world's worst financial schemes. They pay eye‐watering commissions to the folks who sell them, which is why they're so prolifically sold. Over the past few years, I've given plenty of talks in Europe. With Europe's strict financial regulations, you might feel protected walking into a European bank and asking them to manage your money. But to my horror, banks in countries like Germany and Switzerland (just to mention two) also typically sell the same crap. These schemes are great for the banks. But investors get burned. And these investors are often trapped. If they want to sell, they are required to pay massive penalties (which, in the end, are almost always worth paying).

This book explains how to avoid these stinky schemes, explaining how to invest in a diversified portfolio of low‐cost index funds or ETFs. I'll show where you can open your investment account, while describing how to make investment purchases for different nationalities. The strategy I describe beats the returns of most professional investors. Best of all, you won't have to watch the stock market, follow the economy, or read the dull business pages of The Wall Street Journal.

This strategy takes about 60 minutes a year. Don't believe me? Good. Don't believe anyone who talks to you about money. That goes double for a financial salesperson. Consider everyone a shark, until proven otherwise. Use the Internet as you read this book. Confirm all my sources.

Does 60 minutes a year sound like too much time to spend on your investments? No problem. You could hire a scrupulous financial advisor or a robo advisor firm. I list some in this book. They would build you a portfolio of low‐cost index funds or ETFs. Nobel Prize winners in economics recommend these products. Warren Buffett does too. In fact, Mr. Buffett says that when he dies, his estate will be invested in index funds.

I'll explain what index funds are and how they work. I'll also show you how to buy them.

Millionaire Expat (3^rd edition) outlines how to plan for your future. How much money should you invest, based on your future needs? How much of your investment portfolio can you afford to sell during each retirement year?

Several expats, however, might say, “I would love to retire, but I can't afford it.” In some cases, they didn't save enough. Others saved well, but they were rooked into long‐term investment schemes that didn't make them decent profits. But such people shouldn't fret. I'll describe some desirable locations where you could retire on a shoestring. You could live (full‐time or part‐time) in a low‐cost country, spending a fraction of what it would cost to live in the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand or much of Europe. I also provide tips for younger, global nomads who are keen to travel the world while working online.

As an expatriate, you can build lifetime memories by experiencing more of what the world has to offer. You can live better, earn more, and provide for a generous retirement. You'll just need a plan. Fortunately, you're reading it.