WE were on our way to what is described as “the happiest place on earth” and the magical destination where “dreams come true”.

But getting to Disneyland Paris was a nightmare. And I don’t mean the arduous task of going through security and keeping track of two small people, teddies that must not be lost and retaining my sanity, and I don’t even mean the flight itself.

That was all plain sailing – or flying I should say.

It was the actual task my husband set himself of not paying the sky-high parking charges at the airport that led to us nearly divorcing before we had even reached the runway.

I exaggerate - a little.

But let me paint a picture of the October holiday scene two years ago - we set off on good time, with tablets entertaining a then four and five-year-old in the back. Excitement was high about meeting Mickey Mouse.

Then we turned the sat-nav on to take us to a car park my husband had booked us into for the four days we would be away. I can’t tell you where the car park was except to say that he assured me it was “somewhere near the airport”, because its location remains a mystery, as we never found it.

Naturally, he had paid in advance - around £40. I admit this is a good deal (if we had ever actually been able to park there) and I understand the thought process of saving more than double that to spend on the delights of Disney, which don’t come cheap.

But the sat-nav did its thing of taking us on to a tiny, winding road through the middle of nowhere. All the while, the clock was tick-tocking and two small people were saying “Are we nearly there yet?” on repeat.

The tension was building like a Disney denouement as we passed by the time we should have been checking in, the mystery car park was still to show itself and we were having a few “cross words” in a jolly “we’re not arguing” tone.

A decision had to be made if we were going to make it to the happiest place on earth – we parked at the actual airport like a couple of Rockefellers.

So the ending is both happy and sad. We made it to Disney, but we spent a fortune first – the £40 paid to the mystery car park and the £100-plus at the parking machine on the way home. Next time, we may let the train take the strain.