Disneyland in France! Just Not the Same...

Disneyland Paris can be described as strictly French. Do not expect the magic of Walt Disney World in Florida nor the charm and goodwill of Disneyland, California. I do believe Walt would be disappointed. It felt more like a fever dream than an actual Park day. 

It started as any other Park day. We rope dropped, because father didn’t raise no slacker, and had a perfectly calculated itenerary in hand. We also Disneybound, so the mandatory bathroom selfie is included :) 

My little Alice was about to find out all the Alice things were closed… but for now, look at how cute this teen is and ride the emotional high of ignorance!

(Yes, that IS a Star Wars sun shirt on my kid. It’s ok to be envious.)

The thing that makes Disney, well, Disney is the knowledge that from the time you’re through the gate, you will be transformed. You are teleported to a world of magic WITH attention to detail AND the effort for perfectionism brought by EVERY Cast Member, from the street sweepers to ride attendants. The whole day is a magic act, Glitz and Glam and Nostalgia and New all kicked off in a distinctly Americana dreamscape.

Never have I walked down Main Street, USA and felt sad. Never did I expect to walk down Main Street, USA in Europe. I can safely say, I still haven’t.

Oh, it’s a replica, of course. You’ll see familiar sites, and I wish you would smell familiar smells. But honestly, it just smells like France (If you know, you know: sweaty people, lots of flowers, and a continuous hint of urine.) I guess they missed the memo on pumping clean and scented air. 

We’re a very sensory-oriented family. The whole day, something felt “off”. I can’t pinpoint it, but the vibe was very Wandavision. What is happening? Maybe it was getting us in the mood of unease for our first ride of the day: 

Haunted Manor (cue the lightening! mwhahahaha!)

photo stack of Haunted Manor for my dad, because yall know he loves this stuff. 

It broke down for a brief moment while we were on it and my phone kept turning on its flash INSIDE, so that was… interesting. But we did it! It’s a bit different than the original, but nothing to write home over.

Let’s skip ahead.

The three things they got right were the dragon, the parade, and the Lion King (abridged) show. Without those, I wouldn’t have believed any part of this park was Disney. CMs poured their souls into those dance routines and characters. 

Unfortunately the CMs at ground level were, how you say, decidedly French. It’s an attitude, an aura, a vibe. “You’re an inconvenience. I will only answer this one question, and not well.” 

Here’s an example conversation, one of many we had throughout the day:

-Where’s the train station? 

CM: Over there.

-Where?

CM: *puts down tablet* over THERE *gestures*

-ok, thanks, merci! (CM already back on device)

We walk that way. 

The train is turned off until after the parade. 

The same train I was going to take to SEE said parade. 

*loading dial up tones* … what?

I asked the same CM if this was normal. “Yes, it is shut off as we prepare the parade.” 

Oooookay. Not a language barrier issue. Got it.

Insert sprint from Adventure to Fantasy just in time to get a no-shade spot. Thank God I brought a cane chair. Bonus! I saw a cute Pooh hat on the way, so that came home with me. Secured a spot, doubled back for the hat. No ears this time. It didn’t feel right. Ears belong to Walt Disney’s land, not Paris.

The parade was FANTASTIC. No notes. I mean, it’s half in French, so as far as I knew it was great. We finished up DL and park hopped. We only wanted to do the things that we don’t have stateside. That really cut out a lot of the DL side. Pirates was closed, as was the Alice corner, but we made the best of it. I couldn’t find a Celebrate button anywhere, and I settled for a Birthday one from town hall (again, rude. A sharply-dressed man with a sharper tongue telling me to not talk to him until I had waited in line. The line was nonexistent. Ok, I stand behind the rope. He finishes his task. He says, “Next.” He gets mad at me for asking for a button on my way out instead of my way in. What. Is. Happening.)

We were there during a heat wave. I’ll blame a lot of the attitude on that. Our 16 year-old son almost passed out between DLP and Adventure World, because Europe doesn’t believe in AC for All. When we asked for electrolytes, we were told they don’t exist. My husband took him to first aid, and all they did was send him back outside into the shade. That wasn’t very magical. Luckily the larger shops had AC, so our son laid on the cold tile floor until his head stopped swimming. (I should mention he has migraines and seizures, and I was a nervous wreck).  

As I explained what was happening to the magic maker who was helping me check out with my hastily- grabbed Frozen swag, he suggested first aid, and I almost started crying. There is no crying in Disney! He gave me a set of  “we’re getting rid of these” Valentines promo mugs, for which I am very thankful. I felt like a toddler in a checkout line. Don’t cry! Here, have a trinket. It was just enough to get me over the hump of midday burnout.

We ate, or rather grazed, all day. There is no salt or Mickey shape to your pretzel. I have a dairy allergy. There is little I can eat. I dream of those pretzels being amazing. This one was not.

One saving grace was the number of ice cream carts. If you’re going to overheat and under-eat, at least do it with Mickey bars and gelato. SUPRISE! It’s just Magnum bars and push pops. Close enough.

Over at AW we HAD to do the Web Slinger. One, the kids had never done it, and two, it’s INSIDE. We lost the boys in the line and had no way forward or back. 

If you’re getting claustrophobic, good. I think that’s the point. But, hey! 3D glasses and exhaustion never looked so cool. Oh, and it’s all in French.

We got caught in a blessing of a rain storm right after the Tangled ride (think teacups but with boats). Our daughter and I danced in the rain. You have to make the most of what you have. People clapped, she smiled, we brought joy. That’s probably my favorite memory of the whole day: watching my kids embrace the suck and make it better. It’s not that different from running to Soarin in flip flops at WDW, except we didn’t pack flip flops! Hand dryers to the rescue, and we were off to another indoor spot: 

That’s right, folks. The Tower of Terror IS ALIVE! I loitered while they rode. I am fundamentally opposed to adrenaline. These guys loved it though! Hubby said it’s the best one he’s done, so if ToT is your thing, you miiiiight stop by. Maybe. If you’re in town.

Fun fact: That storm ate up our Pixar time. Yep, that’s right! We went to France and did NOT see Remy. That’s my main regret. I can’t think of a single reason to go back, other than to check that off the list. Or to show someone the DRAGON. (Which, sadly, I don’t have photos of. She told me not to… or maybe they’re all on my kid’s phone.)

Here’s the thing about The Dragon: she’s got a lot of people around her trying to get group shots or selfies. But if you are still, quiet, and patient, the oohs and ahhs fade and she looks right at you. She’s real, guys. In that moment, she’s real. Touring the castle after engaging with a real life dragon makes you feel the awe and wonder of childhood, like outside of those walls will be just as magical. 

It’s not; just stay in the castle.

Unless you can magically teleport to Arendelle, which is beautiful and worthy of a look. It’ll save you the trip and share a picture: 

The nighttime spectacular was cancelled on account of it being France. The end.

Ok actually it was because of the heat wave AND the rain. You can’t do fireworks in a drought and you can’t do projections if everything is soaked. No idea what side they were on, and we were too exhausted to find out. 

We caught the train back home and fell into bed with blisters and sunburns and confusion. Usually the blisters and sunburns come with a bigger emotional reward. I blinked up at the ceiling like I had just experienced a fever dream. Was that what they thought Disney was? No wonder the French people despise Disneyland. It’s the same feeling I get from people in Arlington hating on Six Flags. And in all fairness, both groups are right.

Written by Jessica Hamilton, 

the world’s greatest daughter and humblest of kin

 

(PS: Since Disney wasn’t enough walking and people, we did the Louvre the next day. I was reminded that while I like walking and generally like people, I do not like them together.)

Bonus photos: