This weekend saw the first of my younger brothers, Graham, turn thirty. It's always good to mark your thirtieth with something big - and they don't come much bigger than Graham. To get a clear picture of what Graham looks like you should first of all search for images of the cult leader who orchestrated the sarin gas attack in Tokyo. Then, with that image in mind, pierce his head and face with bits of steel and a ring through his nose. Next, give him a 54" chest. Finally, with this massive vision of dark menace straining to wreak havoc and destruction, consider that he has a soft spot for Disney and all its merchandise. Whereas I am comfortable with stamping on the heads of woodland animals with the mildest of ailments, Graham likes to see them rendered in CGI beauty and voiced by the Holywood A-list. So, Disneyland Paris is where I spent my weekend.
At the moment I'm struggling to get over the fact that I drove there. I recently drove to Newcastle and back for the Great North Run - this weekend I drove to Paris and back, peering through the December fog at the Eiffel Tower as we were skirting with the Periphique at 9:00 on Saturday morning. A mile from home and we're on a Ferry to France. Three and a half hours after landing in Cherbourg and we're queueing for Space Mountain. My previous experiences with France have been largely limited to Lourdes. However, the same level of devotion, idolatary, and merchandising is as alive for Mickey in Paris as it was for Mary in the Pyranees. The Festival of Lights along the main street of the Disney resort sees the same level of crowds and fanaticism as the candle-light procession for the Blessed Virgin. The only real difference being that Bernadette's visions weren't available on limited release special edition DVDs for repeated viewings.
Whatever it is that Disney have done in Paris, they've done it very well. There really is the sense of a magical other world of enchanted palaces, haunted mansions, and old west prospecting. Ok, it's all an artificial and manufactured atmosphere, but look at how well it's all packaged. As with New York, London, Lourdes, skiing, and Le Tour de France, it's all in some way wrapped up and orchestrated to make the queues and the over-priced fast food seem almost acceptable. I don't know if it was the sugar-coated environment, the fun of surprising my brother and spending some time
together in the way we used to when we were both into Lego (Graham has moved on...), or something else entirely, but I had a fantastic weekend.
Neil - does not deserve repeated viewings.
