Siem Reap, Cambodia

Tourism owns this town, and everything else rents a room in the back. The Angkor complex pulls millions of visitors annually, which means the local economy runs on hotels, restaurants, tuk-tuk drivers, and tour guides. Foreigners who work here legally are almost all in hospitality management, dive shops, or NGO landmine-clearing operations. Remote workers can make it work, but don't confuse "can" with "should." Internet averages 45 Mbps and drops during the rainy season when the power flickers. You'll spend about $480 a month on food, beer, and a motorbike rental, plus another $450 if you want a one-bedroom in the city center that doesn't smell like mildew. That's cheap by Western standards. It's not cheap by Cambodian ones, and landlords know you're not Cambodian the second you open your mouth.

The heat is the first thing that breaks people. Eighteen meters above sea level, flat as a table, and humid enough that your clothes never quite dry. You'll ride a motorbike everywhere because public transit doesn't exist, and the alternative is haggling with tuk-tuk drivers who've been grinding the same tourist circuit since 2006. Healthcare is thin. For anything beyond a sprained ankle or a stomach bug, you're flying to Bangkok or Singapore. The local clinics can handle basic blood work and stitches. They cannot handle a cardiac event. Bureaucracy is a slow-motion headache, visa extensions require an agent unless you enjoy spending afternoons in government waiting rooms, and almost nobody speaks English once you're three blocks off Pub Street. Khmer is a hard language. Most expats learn "hello" and "thank you" and then coast on smiles for two years.

This city suits a specific kind of person and punishes everyone else. If you're in your late twenties or thirties, working remotely, and you want cheap rent, cold Angkor beer, and a social scene where you can find someone to split a pizza with on any given Tuesday, Siem Reap delivers. Retirees have a rougher time. The healthcare gap is real, the heat is unrelenting, and the retiree score of 59 reflects that. Safety sits at 65 out of 100, which means you're unlikely to get mugged but you will get your phone snatched if you're scrolling on the back of a tuk-tuk at midnight. Crime index of 35 is low by global standards. That doesn't mean zero. If you need infrastructure, predictability, or air that doesn't feel like soup, look elsewhere. If you can tolerate chaos and you understand that the temples are a backdrop, not a lifestyle, you might stay longer than you planned.