Disneyland Paris

Listen first. Somewhere ahead, a brass band is playing. A steam whistle sounds in the distance. Under your feet, the paving is smooth and warm, and the air smells of popcorn and caramel. You are standing on farmland east of Paris, in the territory of Bailly-Romainvilliers and its neighbouring communes. A few decades ago, this ground grew wheat and sugar beet. Today it holds one of the most visited places in Europe.

Disneyland Paris opened in April 1992. At the time, it carried a different name, Euro Disney. The choice of location was practical. This part of the Marne-la-Vallée area sits within easy reach of Paris, and of much of western Europe, by road, rail and air. The high-speed train station at the resort's edge still makes that point clear. Travellers can step off a train from distant cities and walk straight to the gates.

The early years were not easy. The resort faced heavy debts, mixed reviews from the French press, and attendance below its owners' hopes. There was also a cultural debate. Some French critics saw an American theme park as a threat to European culture. Over time, the company adjusted. It renamed the resort, changed its pricing and menus, and slowly found its audience. Today, families from across the continent treat a trip here as a rite of passage.

Walk through the entrance and you arrive on Main Street, U.S.A. It shows an idealised American small town around the turn of the twentieth century. Look at the shopfronts, the painted signs and the gas-style lamps. Here is the first surprise many visitors miss. Behind the shops on both sides run long covered arcades. Designers added them because the Paris region gets plenty of rain and cold winters. On a wet day, you can walk the whole street and stay dry.

At the end of the street, the castle rises. Its official name is Le Château de la Belle au Bois Dormant, the castle of Sleeping Beauty. This choice has deep roots in France. The fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty was published in a well-known French version by the writer Charles Perrault in the late seventeenth century. So the castle tells a story that began in this country long before animation existed.

The castle also looks different from its cousins in America and Asia. The designers knew that Europeans grow up near real castles. A copy of a fortress would not impress them. So they chose a softer, storybook style. Its towers are slender and pastel. Its roofs are blue and pointed. Many observers see echoes of medieval illuminated manuscripts, those hand-painted books of the Middle Ages, in its shapes and colours.

Now for the second surprise. Climb the stairs inside the castle to the upper gallery. There you will find stained glass windows and woven tapestries that tell the Sleeping Beauty story, panel by panel. Then go back down and look for the passage underneath. Deep below the castle, in a dim stone cave, lies a large mechanical dragon. It sleeps, it breathes, and now and then it stirs. Many guests walk past the entrance and never know it is there.

The park is divided into five lands, arranged around the castle like the spokes of a wheel. Main Street leads to the centre. To the west is Frontierland, with its American Wild West theme. To the south-west is Adventureland, full of jungle paths, caves and pirate ships. Behind the castle sits Fantasyland, built in a gentle European fairy-tale style. To the east is Discoveryland, which looks at the future through old eyes.

Discoveryland deserves a closer look. In many Disney parks, the future land is sleek and modern. Here, designers took a different route. They drew on European visionaries of the past, such as the French writer Jules Verne and the Italian inventor Leonardo da Vinci. The result is brass, copper and riveted iron. It looks like the future as imagined in the nineteenth century. Notice the warm bronze colours and the machines that seem built by hand.

Frontierland also has its own story. On the hill stands Phantom Manor, a haunted house with a Victorian-style façade. Unlike its American counterparts, it has a darker storyline linked to the abandoned mining town around it. Out on the water sits Big Thunder Mountain, a runaway mine train ride built on an island. To reach it, the trains pass beneath the river. The red rock shapes recall the deserts of the American West.

The resort is much bigger than this one park. Next door is a second park, which has been through a large transformation in recent years. Beyond the gates lie hotels, a shopping and dining district called Disney Village, a lake, and a golf course. The pink Disneyland Hotel stands right above the park entrance, like a gatehouse. Around it all, a whole new town district has grown, with homes, offices and a large shopping centre.

That growth is part of the story too. The resort was planned together with French authorities as part of a wider regional development. Roads, rail links and new neighbourhoods followed the park. For the communes nearby, including Bailly-Romainvilliers, life changed. Quiet villages became part of a growing urban area. Today, thousands of people work here, many of them local, and many speaking several languages to welcome guests from all over the world.

Before you move on, pause for a moment. Look back towards the castle, or along Main Street towards the station. Listen to the mix of languages around you, French, English, Spanish, Dutch, Italian and more. Notice the small details: the carved woodwork, the flower beds, the lamps that will glow when evening comes. Behind all the fantasy is very real craft. And beneath your feet, not so long ago, there were simply open fields.