Having now experienced the Paris variety of the global brand with my
10-year-old daughter in tow, I am happy to conclude that the Disney
theme-park phenomenon is a harmless, pleasant and child-friendly
distraction from the truly sinister aspects of modern life such as
reality television, rap music and global warming.

The main thing Disneyland Paris shares with its American relatives is
efficiency. It moves large numbers of people in and out of the hotels,
the parks, the restaurants and – thanks to the efficiency of the
Waterloo-Marne la Vall�e-Chessy Eurostar service – in and out of the
entire complex with an efficiency one associates more with the Germans
than the French. My recent weekend trip was a sheer thrill for my
daughter Lucy and has earned me enough parental brownie points to last
well into winter.

There were one or two attractions that amazed even a hardened cynic
such as me. Honey I Shrunk The Audience, a 3D special effects film,
was brilliant; the Tarzan Show, a combination of Alvin Ailey American
Dance Theatre and a gymnastics demonstration performed to a Phil
Collins soundtrack, was splendid; and Thunder Mountain and Indiana
Jones and the Temple of Doom were two rides that were gentle enough
for me to hold down my lunch and fast enough for my daughter to tell
her friends she has been on a white-knuckle ride.

Fortunately, she decided not to take on the two real white-knuckle
roller-coasters – the Rock’n’Roller Coaster and Space Mountain – both
of which I have endured in the past without much pleasure.

That was Disneyland Park. In the Walt Disney Studios Park, on an
adjacent site a five-minute walk away, there were more treats for
jaded fathers.

The auto stunt show called Moteurs…Action! is performed three times
a day, and should not be missed. In a stadium that seats about 10,000
people, a group of cinema stunt men recreates daring, seemingly
death-defying, car-chase scenes that at times appear like automotive
ballet, with four black cars chasing one red one through the narrow
streets of a perfectly created film set.

Another terrific show for cinephiles is Cinemagique, a film that
combines clips from celluloid classics with an amusing interactive
story starring Martin Short.

Both the parks are at all times filled with “characters”. These are
the Mickey Mouses, Donald Ducks, Goofys and all the other cartoon
favourites the Disney corporation has acquired over time (I’m still
rather taken aback at the sight of Winnie the Pooh in a Disney park),
and who make public appearances to the delight of autograph
book-wielding children.

Now here’s the thing about the magic of Disney. My daughter clearly
understood that inside the costumes were human actors – she once said
“it would be funny if it were a man inside the Minnie Mouse suit”.
However, whenever one of those characters hove into view she would
lose all reason, emit shrieks of delight, and run towards it at
breakneck speed. Once within range she would shyly proffer her
autograph book – before being brushed aside by competing French,
Belgian and German children and frequently coming away with a blank
page. Throughout all this she remained thrilled to be in the presence
of these lumps of fur and fancy dress and chose quite consciously to
suspend disbelief because it was more fun that way. And I suppose the
definition of magic is the suspension of disbelief, whether it is
conscious or unconscious.

The only drawback of our Disney weekend was that perennial tussle
between parent and child over the purchase of useless knick-knacks and
sweets. Both the park and the studio complexes are filled with
merchandising outlets, those gigantic emporiums that were once known
as shops. Here there are mountains of soft toys – every Disney
character in sizes from tea-cup small to excess-baggage huge. There
are also racks of clothing, coffee mugs, key rings, dressing gowns and
millions of plastic toys that whirr around pointlessly. Whenever there
was a lull in activities, or when we were forced to head for shelter
from the rain, Lucy and I found ourselves drawn in and I would test my
boredom threshold as she played with everything on the shelves. I
decided to be strict. No toys, one ice cream and lolly per day, no
debate.

Lucy is soon to sit her SATs and entrance exams for secondary school,
and with GCSEs then A-levels after that, the clock is ticking on her
childhood, so this immersion in fantasy and illusion seemed entirely
appropriate. And that really is why Disney works: if you don’t ask too
many questions, it provides an escape from the harsh realities of the
modern world and allows children a last flirtation with innocence.
With between 12 and 13 million people visiting Disneyland Paris every
year – it is easily Europe’s most popular tourist attraction – it is
clear that others feel the same.

Getting there
Graham Boynton travelled to Disneyland Paris by Eurostar (08705
186186, www.eurostar.com), which offers one service a day from
Waterloo and Ashford in Kent for �59 return (from the end of
September), with a journey time of 2 hours 40 minutes. During this
year’s Hallowe’en season (October 1-31), prices for a weekend trip to
Disneyland Paris start at �397 per adult and �137 per child for a
two-night Classic Package staying at Disney’s Hotel New York.