Not Ireland Vol. 3: Is Disneyland Paris the Worst Disney Park?

Did you like my sad attempt at a clickbait title? Or rather more importantly…did it work? I guess so because you’re here now and I’m here now so…welcome.

Anyways. Disney Paris.

The Curse of the Baking Blog

Like every baking blog to ever exist, rather than just telling you whether Disney Paris is the worst park, I am going to make you scroll all the way down to the bottom of the page to see the answer.

You know what I’m talking about. You find a recipe online for the “Best Pumpkin Spice Cookies EVER” and click the link because they had 4.8 stars and must be somewhat okay. Next thing you know you’re reading all about why Fall is my favorite season and how I love it when the smells fill up the kitchen and the first time I ever tried pumpkin pie and why I named my kids Nutmeg, Clove, and Cinnamon because isn’t fall just the best? And all you wanted was the cookie recipe gosh darn it.

So in the spirit of baking blogs, I am going to first make you suffer through a whole post about me traipsing through Paris for a weekend and poor decisions that led to 3:45am wakeup times and walking 16 miles and seeing the Mona Lisa and eating my weight in pastries. Let’s buckle in.

I’m Sorry Paris

I should start by saying I think I owe Paris an apology.

This weekend began with low expectations and I fully intended to be underwhelmed by the city of love. I mean heck, I’ve been to Paris before and I still held unfair prejudices against it.

What I found instead was a really beautiful city, friendly people, and yes-the-hype-is-true unreal croissants. So Paris, I am truly, deeply sorry.

Megan Goes on a Walk (and Regrets It)

The travel came about because Chappie had a business trip in France for the week (casual, I know), so I met her there for the weekend. The adventure started with a 2.4 mile walk with a backpacking backpack on my back and a school backpack on my front, in my work clothes, to the train station to catch a train from Sligo to Dublin. I slightly underestimated the energy exertion required for this task and soon found myself on the train as a frizzy, sweaty mess of a human. Next time, I’m taking a taxi.

I stayed in Dublin for the night (BIG shout out to Pasta Protector for being the generous host that she is) and woke up at the crisp time of 3:45am to catch my 6am flight.

Now, I won’t go into specifics on the details of what happened next, but rather will leave it at this: the Charles De Gaulle airport is not my friend. Especially when I have 50 lbs, sorry 22.7 kg, of luggage strapped to me.

The Long Road to Paris

Flash-forward 3.5 hours and I was all but running through the streets of Paris, backpacks (plural) in tow, trying to meet Chappie at her hotel before she had to leave for work so I could get the room key.

I finally arrived at the front, even frizzier, sweatier, and more flustered than before, to find Chappie, her coworker, and her director walking out the door, cool as cucumbers. Introductions were made, embarrassment was at an all-time high (well, really only for me), and I finally got the key to the room. It was like the scene in Cars when Lightning McQueen bursts through the Piston Cup banner first, only to find out it was a three-way tie. Chick Hicks tells him, “That was pretty embarrassing, but I wouldn’t worry about it… because it wasn’t me!” At least that’s what I pictured everyone saying about me in the moment.

After I freed my shoulder from the shackles of outfit options, I took a second to regroup (and reapply deodorant) and then I set off for the day.

Megan in Paris

It was so much fun.

My own personal “Emily in Paris” moment started with a 45-minute walk to the Louvre which included a near immediate croissant pit stop and a leisurely stroll through the city. I picked up a baguette sandwich on the way and ate it in the gardens in front of the museum – the perfect place to relax and people watch.

The Louvre was the Move

I then wandered through the museum, humming Lorde lyrics, making up funny captions to very old and rare paintings, and taking a selfie with the lady herself, Mona. When the excitement of the morning (and the early wakeup call) finally caught up to me, I stopped in the coffee shop in the museum, drank a pumpkin spice latte and did some more fruitful people watching.

My journey then took me along the Champs de Elysees for some light shopping, a stop in Sephora to get my eyebrows done (there is no Benefit Brow Bar in Sligo, Ireland. Shocking, I know.), and a head on view of the powerful Arch de Triumph.

I met Chappie for dinner, we bought cheap tourist berets, then walked to the Eiffel Tower to see it shimmer in the moonlight.

All-in-all, 20 hours of awake time, 16 miles of walking, and a whole lot of love in my heart for a city I didn’t think I would like.

#WFP

The next day Chappie and I both #WFP (Work From Paris, for the uninitiated) at an outdoor table in a little café in the heart of the city. If you’re wondering, I don’t know what I did to deserve this life either. It was the perfect pick-me-up to lift me out of the funk I was going through earlier in the week (see Ireland Vol. 5)

We then continued to explore the city, gaze upon the Parthenon and the Notre Dame, and travel across town to our Airbnb for the next two nights.

Côme ‘s Paradise

Once again, I will not go into too much detail, but I will say this apartment was what I would consider quintessential Parisian. It was at the top of a six-story winding staircase. It had a completely open window that overlooked a courtyard within the building. And when I say completely open, I mean I stayed 6 feet away from it at all times. The bathroom was a single toilet outside of the apartment that was shared by the whole floor. Chappie and I would ration how many liquids were consumed in the later hours of the evening to prevent having to use the restroom in the middle of the night. It was tiny, it was cute, and it was definitely Parisian.

After a dinner full of brainstorming the next big Shark Tank invention, Chappie and I snuggled into bed and held our bladders tight. We watched a grossly underrated Disney film, The Aristocats, in preparation for the most exciting part of the trip, DISNEYLAND PARIS, that was coming the next day.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would write that sentence on paper.

The Recipe (Finally)

Finally, the part you most likely came here for.

To ease the anticipation I know you have definitely been feeling this whole time I will give you the classic letdown answer (it’s always a letdown) to the clickbait title at the beginning: No, Disneyland Paris is not the worst Disney Park, in fact it made me feel like I was 5 years old again in the best way possible.

Since you’re here though I will say, of the three I’ve been to, I think Disney World in Florida is the worst Disney park. I’ve had a lot of great memories there, but I don’t know it’s just… Florida.

Anyways.

The Mickey Balloon

As soon as we arrived at the park I eyed a stand selling huge Mickey Mouse balloons. You know the ones – they’re big, they have ears, and every parent tells their kid “no, we don’t need that, it’s a waste of money and it’s just going to get in the way.”

Well, lucky for me I just so happened to be unsupervised, employed, and lacking all the rationality that is expected of someone who has spent 24 years on this earth. I told Chappie in that moment, “This. This is exactly why I became an engineer. So I can buy an overpriced balloon at Disneyland Paris because it will make me happy.” And so I did. And so it did.

Unfortunately for Chappie, her head was perfectly level with Mickey when his string was tied around my wrist, and the wind was not in her favor. The head bonks were frequent and sudden as we made our way through the park. I also had to leave him with the cast member at the front of every single ride we went on, and then circle back to retrieve him afterwards. Deep down I know she loved him though.

The Disney Effect

The day only went up from there as we tackled Space Mountain (it goes upside down!!), stumbled upon a parade that moved Chappie to tears, and drank the Pumpkin Cream Cold Brew of our dreams, one we will be chasing the high of for the rest of our lives.

It had only been an hour and the day was already pure magic.

The Park is laid out very similarly to Disneyland in California, so it was the perfect balance between new and a much-needed taste of home. The rest of the day continued in the same magical splendor culminating in a Disney-themed drone light show (absolutely amazing by the way) and the fireworks spectacular.

Libérée, Délivrée

When Let it Go came on, Chappie and I did the only thing you can do – belt it at the top of your lungs. This would have been great except we failed to notice that it wasn’t in fact Let it Go. No, the song playing was actually “Libérée, délivrée” and the people around us were not particularly impressed by our American rendition of the coming-of-age anthem. Nonetheless, it was the perfect way to end an amazing trip.

As with tradition, my flight home got me up at the wee hour of 4am (again) and as I watched from the taxi the sun rise over the Seine, I said goodbye to the city I had come to love.

Today’s List

Okay here’s the deal: I wrote out a list for this post because I always have lists at the end of my posts but then two things happened: a) I realized the list had absolutely nothing to do with Paris or Disneyland or anything else written in this entry and b) it may just be worth it’s own blog post, so stay tuned because it’s not written here but it may just show up again soon. That is all.