Five go wild in a fairytale fantasy at Paris Disneyland

Rita de Brun thought her four children would be too old to enjoy Disneyland but on a 48-hour trip to the resort near Paris, they were all just big kids – and so was she

People travel to Paris for many reasons: business, culture, romance, vice. Not us. We travelled in search of two mice, two dogs and a duck.

For years, we'd been planning to visit our favourite childhood friends: Mickey, Minnie, Pluto, Goofy and Donald but, until recently, the time had never been right.

Delivering four bouncing babies in precisely four years and four months meant that we didn't venture far for holidays in the early years — and by the time the gang was big enough to take abroad with ease, I thought that as we hadn't been to Disneyland when they were tiny, we'd missed the boat. The kids thought otherwise, so deferring to their better judgment, last Friday morning, the 11-year-old, her three teenage siblings and I scrambled to catch an early flight to Paris.

As we approached our destination, their excitement grew. While their enthusiasm was contagious and I so wanted them to be delighted by the Disneyland dream, I secretly feared that we would be like Gulliver in Lilliput: giants in a land of little people, and would end up scrambling for the exits.

I needn't have worried. We arrived in a blaze of sunshine at the stylish Disney's Hotel New York, and our spirits soared higher than the giant helium balloon that hovered above the lake outside our windows.

We didn't linger, as we were on a mission to experience as much as we could of Walt's legacy in our 48-hour break. So, bags unpacked, we flew straight out the door, as if by magic carpet, in search of the two parks: Disneyland and Walt Disney Studios, which were a mere stroll from our hotel.

Nothing prepared us for what lay ahead. Walk down Main Street USA, with its dazzling backdrop of Sleeping Beauty's Castle, and you enter a dream from which you never want to wake. To say it is picturesque is like saying that the Mona Lisa is quite good.

There's an amiable ambience about the resort, a feeling of purity and innocence that would melt the heart of both committed cynics and grumps. Strangely, as we ambled along, it was a while before we noticed the piped music that accompanied our every step. In any other place or situation, that might have been perceived as a clinical attempt at mood enhancement, something straight out of the Stepford Wives movie. But in Disneyland, home of the cartoon characters straight out of our wellthumbed childhood story-books, it's nothing short of apt.

First, we sought out the Teacups. Age 11 had always wanted to try these and, as we whirled, twirled and spun like Mad Hatters and March Hares in a scene from Alice in Wonderland, she wasn't disappointed.

That done, the teens led the way to their ride of choice: Space Mountain Mission 2. Unlike them, I had no idea what to expect, and it wasn't until just before we boarded our rockets, and I listened to the warnings that it was unsuitable for pregnant women — and those with surgical collars, orthopaedic devices, back and heart problems — that I began to wonder what we'd let ourselves in for.

Two minutes later, hurtling along at 70km per hour, I knew all about it, and while I was surrounded by squeals of delight, I was petrified. Unlike my thrill-seeking offspring, the ride left me visibly shaken, if not stirred.

Next, we explored Sleeping Beauty's Castle, boarded Cinderella's Golden Carousel, and flew gently above the Magic Kingdom on Dumbo's Gondola. After that, we did the Snow White and the Seven Dwarves’ ride, followed by Peter Pan's Flight.

By then, the teens were raring for another adrenaline rush, and while we contemplated the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, featuring a 13-floor drop travelling faster than the speed of gravity, we passed and opted instead to plunge, twist and turn at breakneck speed aboard a runaway mine-train on Big Thunder Mountain.

Many laugh at the notion of rediscovering your inner child. I used to. But on our second day at the resort, I did just that when a few minutes into the Buzz Lightyear Laser Blast ride, my son gingerly enquired what my score was.

It was only then that I realised why we were holding laser guns. While everyone else instinctively knew to shoot at the targets we passed, I merely pointed my weapon in what I thought was true 007 style, and I only did that so as not to incur the scorn of my kids. By omitting to shoot, let alone hit anything, I failed to rack up points, but once I knew what to do, I joined in the competition. While I hadn't a hope of catching up, it was great fun trying, and as we battled, the gap between the scores and the generations narrowed.

While Disneyland Resort is best known for its rides, both gentle and otherwise, there's more to it than that. Shopping is a major part of the experience, and whether it's designer gear or a pair of Mickey Mouse ears you're after, you'll be spoilt for choice. And if you still have the energy after a day hoofing around the parks, there's a cinema and a nightclub.

With all the walking you do on a weekend like this, you need sustenance, and there are plenty of fastfood eateries to choose from and a number of restaurants.

The Steakhouse is good, but for something extra special try Walt's, California Grill, Auberge de Cendrillon, or Restaurant Inventions. At the latter, you'll be greeted at your table by Donald, Minnie or Pluto. And by ‘greeting', we're not talking about a cursory visit. My fabulous four were kissed, hugged and teased by the Disney characters, and while they mightn't like to admit it, they were charmed.

Later that evening, we took our places on the sidewalk to watch the Parade, where myriad floats in a kaleidoscope of colours glided gracefully by. After yet another day of relentless excitement and fun, we left the resort to explore the City of Light. It took only 40 minutes to get there — and, wow, was it worth it. No matter how many times you've seen it, the Louvre, Rive Gauche, Arc de Triomphe and Champs- Elysées cast a spell.

As the blue hue of the Eiffel Tower glittered and twinkled against the ink-black sky, marking the last evening of a perfect weekend in Paris, we decided to spend the following morning shopping at the resort before departing at midday for the airport.

Next day we visited Phantom Manor, which is spooky in the best possible way, and agreed that we couldn't leave without one more whirl on the Teacups and a final jaunt on Thunder Mountain. We finished with a relaxing cruise on the Molly Brown Riverboat.

In 48 hours we didn't manage to try everything we fancied, but we did succeed in having what the kids agreed was one of the best weekends they have ever had.

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April 2010

Check out my blogs at: Sentosa Theme Park Blog and Dis-Asia

Nice story.
Thanks for sharing.

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-Dan