Hello everyone, and welcome back to Scott Abroad! I have a confession to make: I love Asia. I’ve had a lifelong fascination with the people, the stories, the spices, the cultures — all of it. One could argue that the entire arc of Western civilization is, in many ways, the story of Europeans trying to get Asian goods back home cheaply and efficiently. The Silk Road existed for a reason. So did the Dutch East India Company and the infamous East India Company. Westerners wanted what Asia had.

But I digress.

A well‑known financial guru often challenges audiences to imagine their “rich lives” — not in terms of money, but in terms of what a fulfilling life actually looks like. Everyone has a dream for their future. The real question is: how do you bridge the gap between now and then?

With retirement looming larger than feels comfortable, my partner and I decided it was time to imagine our own version of that rich life. I knew I wanted to spend more time in Asia. Practically speaking, I also wanted access to public transportation that could take us to everything we’d ever need. She wanted snow, a view, and a house with character. We both wanted a walkable neighborhood with restaurants, coffee shops, and the ocean — without the threat of being wiped out by a tsunami.

The thing about Asia is that, unless you’re looking in very rural areas, you can find most of these things almost anywhere. Asia is remarkably walkable, and public transportation is abundant. It varies by region, of course, but it’s generally reliable and accessible. Food is everywhere — not always westernized, but always available. Which brings us to snow.

Asia is one of the snowiest regions on Earth. From the Roof of the World in Tibet to frozen Siberia, winter brings plenty of it. For our purposes, though, neither of us is eager to live in the Himalayas or in the far north of Siberia. Those places also lack ocean access unless you’re considering eastern Russia, which… we were not. China had potential, but it also came with complications we couldn’t ignore. Geographically and practically, our self‑imposed criteria narrowed our choices to two possibilities: South Korea or Japan.

On paper, both countries offer snow, stable utilities and governments, excellent public transportation, and easy access to high‑quality food. But in the end, Japan won out. South Korean real estate was simply outside our budget.

So we set our sights on Hokkaido, the northern jewel of the Land of the Rising Sun. It checked every box. Snowy winters? Check. Good public transportation? Check. Ocean views that come with low tsunami risk areas? Check. An affordable housing market? Absolutely. As a bonus, Hokkaido also offers summers that don’t melt your face off.

And where did we land? In the charming seaside town of Otaru, Hokkaido — a place that somehow manages to feel both peaceful and alive, snowy and warm, practical and dreamlike. It checked every box we imagined when we first asked ourselves what a “rich life” might look like. Not rich in the financial‑guru sense of spreadsheets and net worth, but rich in the way that matters: walkable streets, ocean air, good food, a sense of community, and a home with character.

In other words, the life we pictured on paper suddenly had a real address.

Now comes the fun part — and the part most people are curious about: how do you actually find and buy real estate in Japan?