Retiring abroad has been a dream for multitudes.

It's pleasing to envision lolling in the shade of a tree in Tahiti or sipping champagne as the afternoon sun dips over your villa in southern France. Problems occur, however, when you don't do a bit of homework.

A few decades ago, a colleague quit his job at the end of the week, flourished plane tickets and said he was moving to Paris. He was back begging for his job right after the weekend because, he said, everything over there was in French, which he couldn't understand.

Several years ago, a Southern California town police chief retired, sold everything, packed what was left into his truck and drove to – while not an exotic environ – Oregon, because he'd seen that "everything up there is so green." He returned in less than year complaining that it rained all the time.

The point is, neither had visited the place they headed to before committing themselves to living there.

On our first visit to a small hilltop village overlooking the Tuscan landscape, the Latin lure was inviting and the sales pitches powerful.

Fortunately, we resisted the salesmanship and enjoyed the sun. We've returned a half dozen times since because we enjoy the locale and friends we've made there. But we've invested infinitely less money travelling there instead of living there.

All the while, we've listened to the travails of Canadians, Americans, Britons, Scandinavians and other Europeans who did purchase property: the burdensome bureaucratic processes, tangled taxation system, and unforeseen repair and remodelling costs.

Most of the homes and apartments are priced in the six figures. And most cost another six figures to remodel.

One couple bought an apartment overlooking the central piazza and learned when they moved in that they didn't have a bathroom. Then they learned they needed approval from the local council to enlarge a window. And they had to pay a fee to make the request for approval and, when approval is granted, another fee is required to go ahead with the work.

By visiting the spot that's refused to leave your brain or your heart, you can uncover the burrs as well as the benefits of relocation.

For example, a sizeable norteamericano community grew up near Guadalajara, Mexico, because of, among other things, a health care system centred on the university's medical school.

Talk to the folks who live where you think you'd like to retire, especially expatriates who've moved there. If you can get a line on people who considered such a move but decided against it, talk to them, too.

You don't have to buy. You can rent. This gives a longer look at the new surroundings as well as flexibility to move.

Check local shops to see if they carry products you need, enjoy, or might miss. One expat, who returns home annually to oversee financial matters, stocks up on coveted peanut butter to take back. Visit the markets to see what they sell.

In many countries, you might need a local attorney to weave your way through bureaucratic mazes.

Some nations, especially in Latin America, have government-sponsored programs aimed at attracting retirees. You can learn more about the programs by visiting the country's embassy.

You'll find that most people in the land you're looking at will probably understand enough English to let you get by. But becoming conversant in the local language will not only allow you to enjoy the time and traditions in your new home, it will also lessen the chance of getting bilked by confused or crooked sales people and tradesmen.

Editor's Note - The writer was encouraged to buy a retirement home in Tuscany, resisted the sale pitch and today is content with the flexibility that renting allows. (file photo)