New ‘Magic Kingdom’ Proves Magical for <i> Les Enfants</i> : Reaction: Children at the opening of Euro Disney got what they came for--the very Yankee-ness that French intellectuals have been decrying.

Cowboys, real cowboys, brought 7-year-old Victorien de Sales to Euro Disney on Sunday.

Wild horses couldn’t have kept him away.

Forget Mickey. Forget Pluto. OK, the fire-breathing dragon got a gasp and a moment of shock before manly composure took over, but on Sunday this youngster from France got closer to the Wild West than he thought possible. He was undeniably impressed.

If a rail strike discouraged many French would-be visitors, and warnings that opening-day traffic jams would put Los Angeles to shame dampened the enthusiasm of others, the De Sales family of four--Francois, Evyline, Victorien and Alexandra--would not miss this historic event.

They piled into their Renault 25 at 7:30 a.m., driving from their village of St. Simeon, population 600, to arrive at the gates of Euro Disney by 8:30.

They had to line up for an hour to buy tickets, but never mind, said Evyline, 40, an accountant. “The children talk about Disney all the time; it’s a real dream for them,” she laughed, pushing 3-year-old Alexandra, in a green dress and lace tights, down Main Street.

They had already been to the Disney model--a small office near the site showing a construction film and selling souvenirs--four times. De Sales estimated that she had spent $200 on Disney paraphernalia before ever setting foot in the park. Victorien recognized Sleeping Beauty Castle from the model he already had at home.

“They really wanted to be here for the opening, so since I spoil them to death . . . (we came),” she said.

They weren’t the only ones; Ruth Favieres, 30, set out from Paris at 3:45 a.m. to get to the park on time. She waited from 5 to 7 a.m. with her 4-year-old son, Jeremy, and aunt, Donna Behar, for the parking lot to open. As a result, by noon, Jeremy had collapsed beside his potato salad at the Market House Delicatessen.

Tony Mott, 23, and Helen Cranstone, 26, drove over from England for the opening. “We thought it would be good to be here on opening day,” Mott said. “It’s a memory that will last.”

And Zofia Wieczor-Struzyna, drove in from Katowice, Poland, with her two children, Patricia, 4, and Alain, 5. “It is worth it,” she said, chasing down her 4-year-old, identifiable in Minnie Mouse ears, Mickey Mouse sunglasses and a black Mickey jacket.

What to do first? The De Sales watched the parade on Main Street. If they didn’t quite understand the point of cheerleaders urging them to cry “Tastes Great!” and “Less Filling,” Alexandra and Victorien were thrilled to wave at Snow White, Cinderella, Peter Pan and Captain Hook in resplendent costumes. By the parade’s end, Alexandra had ventured out of her stroller and Victorien was three feet from the curb, pitched forward on all fours and craning his neck.

What came next was Frontierland. Victorien wasted no time getting outfitted in a red cowboy hat, strapped holster and Colt .45. This was what he’d waited for. After admiring the orange-and-ocher-colored rock formations, Victorien--freckles, black eyelashes and hands shoved firmly in pockets--turned and shook the hand of a Real Cowboy named Didier--jeans, chaps, cowboy hat and rain gear--who greeted him with an unlikely, “Bonjour.”

This is, after all, Euro Disney.

Is there anything at all European about this park, as Disney executives insist? Evyline de Sales looked incredulous. “What? Disney is American; it always was American. Everything I’ve seen of the cartoons of Snow White and all the rest have always been American. It would be like putting the Eiffel Tower in New York City and saying it’s not French.”

But the De Sales seemed unperturbed by what some call a cultural invasion, by the unabashed Yankee-ness of it all. “On the contrary,” said Francois de Sales, 36, a psychologist, munching on a bagel. “It can only add something to France. Apart from our historic culture, we really could not create something like this. Impossible.”

Twelve-thirty; lunchtime. The De Sales had to do without their traditional wine with lunch. The Frontierland Steakhouse--as the rest of Disney’s restaurants--serves no alcohol, and indeed could not serve the De Sales anything until 1:30 because of overbooking. The family made do with hot dogs, home fries and Coke.

Thunder Mountain, Phantom Manor, then on to Fantasyland, where Alexandra stared open-mouthed at the dolls in “It’s a Small World,” while Victorien tried to pick them off with his Colt. All four were impressed by the video displays that followed, cartoon characters projected on tiny screens who talked by TV-phone, fed the cat by computer and sang “It’s a Small World” with friends halfway across the world.

Then: merry-go-round; pit stop; snack, and Star Tours. By then Alexandra had nodded off in her rented stroller, and the De Sales decided at 7 p.m. to head home.

“It was nice, but that’s about it,” said Francois. “After all that publicity, I expected more.” That won’t stop them, he admitted, from coming again.

Not, anyway, if Victorien and Alexandra have their way.