My lifelong Travel Obsession
- Celeste Barbier
- Jul 24
- 7 min read
Updated: Aug 5
Daughter of a Flight Attendant
One of the most loaded questions anyone can ask me is: “Where did you grow up?” I never quite know how to answer it. I’ll try to keep it light—tossing out “all over” or “everywhere”—but that’s never enough. They always push for specifics. So I rattle them off like a verbal passport stamp: California, Colorado, Florida, Hawaii, Washington, Australia, Texas, and Virginia.
And right on cue comes the follow-up: “Oh, were you a military brat?”Cue my internal sigh. Nope. I was the daughter of a flight attendant.
My mother infected me early with the travel bug—and let me tell you, it’s incurable. Worst side effects? Definitely in my bank account. But it’s cheaper than therapy and way more fun. The experiences, cultural fluency, and lessons I soaked up through immersion were priceless. I knew early on I’d carry this love of global connection into my adult life—and eventually share it with others.
I got my first passport at age two. Every time my mom left for work, she’d sing “Leaving on a Jet Plane” to me—her own lullaby of adventure. She worked as an in-flight manager for Continental Airlines for nearly 40 years, bringing the world to our doorstep over and over again.
And thanks to her seniority and the more relaxed pre-9/11 world, I had some highly questionable (borderline illegal) adventures. I flew in cockpits. Handed out candy canes mid-flight. Appointed myself “assistant to the disabled” in airports with zero credentials—just a big heart and a sense of mission. I talked to nuns and Hare Krishnas, asked strangers where they were going, and learned how to read a room faster than most adults.
First-class manners were drilled into me with tights and buckle shoes. I knew when to stay quiet with a book and when it was safe to strike up conversation—sometimes to the delight of my seatmate, sometimes… not so much.
We mostly traveled to three countries: Japan, Germany, and France. The pool was the number one priority. Even if we were just there for a day or two, my sister and I had to swim. While my mom slept off her jet lag in preparation for the turnaround flight, we made the most of those hotel pools.
Germany introduced me to the thrill of cold plunges and the warm embrace of saunas. I was hooked. Japan had wading pools—not deep enough to play in, but full of quiet people methodically doing laps. I tried to match their stillness, even if it confused me.
Paris, however, was a personal offense. No pool. No view. Just a wall outside the hotel window. I sat in silence and sulked dramatically. Reading helped, but what really saved me was a mini quiche from the local patisserie. Our Paris highlights? Buying a baguette to feed pigeons on the way to the Eiffel Tower and taking a boat ride on the Seine—admiring the Louvre and Notre Dame from afar. A postcard itinerary, but I wanted more.
Japan was my favorite. Always. The young Japanese translator flight attendants spoiled us—making origami, writing my name in Kanji, sneaking us treats. Locals in Narita would pet my golden blonde hair (a symbol of prosperity, apparently) and give me trinkets, which I usually passed to my sister, the collector. I remember wishing someone would just give me a kimono already.
I loved sitting on the floor at restaurants, using chopsticks to eat potstickers and shrimp with sweet rice balls. I had Hello Kitty merch before it ever reached the U.S.—and by the time it caught on with American teens, I was already over it. Been there, done that, had the sticker collection to prove it.
That was my childhood. Not rootless. Just everywhere. Rich with texture, ritual, memory, and magic. And always one foot in the sky.
Traveling While An Adult - Expensive & Complicated!
One of the rudest awakenings of adulthood? Finding out just how expensive travel really is. After a childhood of flying standby and being spoiled by a flight attendant mom, I truly believed that the world was mine to wander—freely and often. I didn’t realize back then that my passport had been blessed by proximity and privilege.
My first year of college at Chapman University was a dream. I had a full ride, and it even covered my travel to Italy, where I got to sing for Pope John Paul II in the Sistine Chapel. That trip alone would’ve been enough to blow most people’s minds, but it didn’t stop there. I sang in cathedrals all across Northern Italy—Stresa, Milan, Oriento, Florence, Venice—and we ended the tour in Rome. I was just eighteen, standing inside architectural prayers, my voice bouncing off centuries-old frescoes, fully believing that my future would be filled with travel like that. Constant. Meaningful. Musical. Sacred.
Then I met my wife.
And while she’s many things—grounding, loving, deeply spiritual—I quickly learned she was not a traveler. When we met, she’d been to Vegas, Iowa, Washington State, and a little stretch of Baja near Rosarito. That was about it. And to my horror, she was afraid of flying.
I looked her dead in the eyes and said, “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I’m a flight attendant’s daughter.” I knew I had to change her neural wiring—gently. So for her 50th birthday, I lured her on her first real trip: a flight to Hawaii, followed by an inter-island cruise. My weapons of persuasion? Snacks and a Game Boy. And guess what? She wasn’t nearly as afraid as she thought she was.
Turns out, all I had to do was dangle tropical blue waters and deep relaxation in front of her, and she’d show up, carry-on in hand. Over the next ten years, we went on a handful of cruises—maybe one a year—mostly to the Caribbean and Mexico. It wasn’t constant, but when we could swing it, we made it count.
And still, the ache remains. I always dreamed that my voice would take me around the world. I imagined singing in sacred places, on glamorous stages, on islands and mountaintops and grand halls. And while I have traveled for gigs—to Cabo, New York, Arizona—it hasn’t been the international whirlwind I envisioned. I’m actually flying to New York again this month for a client’s birthday party, and I’m so grateful… but I want more. More consistency. More global magic. More stages in faraway lands.
But here’s the truth: once I became a singer full-time, travel became nearly impossible. I’ve lived gig to gig for years. I’ve never had an excessive amount of money. The only time we could really afford to travel was during the golden years of our foreclosure corporation. And when that business folded in 2011—so did our travel.
The passion never left. But the means did. And that’s what finally led me to reimagine what travel could look like—not just for me, but for others like me.
R.E.A.C.H. For Your Dreams - The Birth of Resté Getaway For Women
The idea for Resté Getaway for Women began in 2018, when I met Vivian Perez at a local networking event. We had a quick but meaningful conversation about travel—how I grew up immersed in it, how deeply I love curating experiences, and how much I’ve always wanted to share that joy with others. Vivian had heard of me and immediately suggested the idea of becoming a group travel leader—someone who could bring my community along on incredible adventures, with music and meaning woven into every step.
Vivian had great insight. She had already built amazing relationships with global tour companies and travel networks that specialize in safe, inclusive travel for LGBTQ+ people. Her trips were a bit more party-oriented, set in fun, energetic destinations around the world. But when we started talking about what matters to me and René—wellness, depth, intentionality, connection—she immediately recognized that there was room for something new in the travel space. Something different. Something more grounded.
At the time, though, René and I weren’t ready. The timing just wasn’t aligned. And looking back, I’m so grateful we waited—because shortly after, COVID hit.
Everything paused. People disconnected. Travel shut down. And I could feel my community aching for something deeper. When I returned to live performance, I noticed how many people were craving more than just a show—they were craving connection. They had lost community, joy, even a sense of belonging. And that’s when the vision for Resté clicked into place.
Resté is our couple name—a blend of Renée and Celeste—and the “Getaway” part felt more expansive than “vacation” or “trip.” We wanted something that could hold all the richness of the experience: wellness, adventure, soulfulness, laughter, rest, and sisterhood.
And so we created REACH, the guiding framework behind every Resté experience.It stands for:Relaxation, Exploration, Animal Encounters, Culture, and Healing.
Every journey we design includes all five of these elements. We reach for our dreams—by slowing down, stepping out, and saying yes to joy again. It’s not just a vacation. It’s a reclamation.
Our first trip launched in May 2023 with 50 incredible women joining us in Costa Rica. The following year, we explored Bacalar in January and Bali in October of 2024. This year, we brought women to the Riviera Maya, traveling from Tulum to Chichén Itzá, steeped in beauty, history, and reconnection.
And now... our hearts are set on Thailand.
The Enchantment of Thailand Is Calling My Soul
Thailand has always whispered to me.
It’s one of those places that feels less like a destination and more like a dreamscape—alive with color, energy, and spirit. And for this next chapter of Resté Getaway for Women, it feels like the exact kind of magic we’re meant to step into.
There’s so much to love about Thailand. It’s one of only three countries in all of Asia that recognizes equal rights for LGBTQ+ people, which makes it not only beautiful, but safe and affirming for queer travelers like us. It’s also long embraced gender fluidity and queerness in ways that, while not perfect, have created more openness than most of the world even comes close to. Ladyboys, for instance, may be glamorized in pop culture, but behind that is a long and complicated history of visibility and resilience. While we remain aware of the nuances—especially around human trafficking and exploitation—we also recognize how far Thailand has come in embracing the LGBTQ+ community.
But the heart of Thailand’s magic? That’s in its diversity. The country is bursting with wonder—limestone islands rising from turquoise waters, misty jungles teeming with life, sacred temples glowing gold, and street markets alive with spices, color, and sound. It holds space for every kind of traveler: the spiritual seeker, the beach lover, the culture sponge, the foodie, the adventurer, the one just looking to exhale.
For me, Thailand has always felt like a call to expand. To soften. To reach for more.
This trip will be no different. We’ll weave all five elements of REACH into the journey—relaxing in warm, tropical waters, exploring ancient temples and local villages, visiting ethical elephant sanctuaries, immersing in Thai culture and cuisine, and healing through connection, laughter, and sisterhood.
The enchantment of Thailand isn’t just in its beauty—it’s in how it restores you. And I can’t wait to share that with every woman who’s ready to say yes.
So… are you coming with us?
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