Tourist drought hits Disneyland Paris

Midday on the hottest August day recorded in Paris and Dominique has no customers for his ice-cold bottles of water. Nearby, in the chilled interior of the Rendez-Vous with the Stars restaurant, most of the tables are empty.

A number of refreshment stalls scattered throughout France's newest theme park appear to be closed. Even the queues for the rides at Walt Disney Studios are disconcertingly short.

Staff in their themed costumes are paid to remain upbeat, US-style. "Not many guests? There'll be more this afternoon," one shop assistant manning an empty gift store says with a concrete smile. Most have been primed to fend off difficult questions. "We aren't allowed to talk about visitor numbers," says Nadine at the guest relations window. "But the president has great confidence in the product."

The relentless piped music echoing across the complex's tarmac expanses can hardly be soothing to the frazzled heads of management officials engrossed in crisis talks in the on-site head office

Disneyland Paris is struggling to fend off bankruptcy, once again. Visitors have not flocked to the expensive new park, dedicated to the art of Hollywood film-making, which was completed last March at a cost of $600m (£370m). The chief executive was forced last week to announce that the shortfall in ticket sales meant that the company risked soon defaulting on some of its €2.3bn (£1.6bn) debt.

This is the latest of numerous plummets experienced by Eurodisney during its short history. In 1994, two years after it opened, it had to be saved from bankruptcy with a 16bn franc (£1.6bn) rescue package, and worries only really faded with the fairytale arrival of a billionaire prince from Saudi Arabia who became the company's biggest investor. The park's rebranding as Disneyland Paris helped to improve its "Euro-dismal" image.

Loathed by France's anti-American lobby when it opened, Eurodisney was dismissed by one influential critic as a "cultural Chernobyl". Eleven years later, France is desperate to do everything it can to preserve the business, which employs 12,500 people.

But this summer the French government has greater problems to contend with. The disaster that threatens the future of Europe's most popular tourist attraction reflects a much wider phenomenon being noted with alarm by the tourism ministry: the acute deficit of tourists throughout the country.

The trouble threatened by the diplomatic hostility between America and France in the spring has materialised as a striking absence of US visitors. More than 2 million Americans stayed in French hotels in the first five months of this year - nearly 30% down on 2002 - a drop that coincides neatly with the US fury at France's refusal to back war in Iraq and the American campaign to boycott French products.

Freedom kissing

Attempts by US francophiles, including Woody Allen, to reawaken America's affection for France have done nothing to improve things. Despite his "Let's Fall in Love Again" video appeal for an end to the silly notion of "freedom fries" and "freedom kissing", in May there were still 40% fewer US visitors in French hotels.

When they die, all good Americans go to Paris, Oscar Wilde wrote; but at the moment most are endeavouring to spend their mortal holidays elsewhere. Staff at the Jules Verne restaurant at the top of the Eiffel Tower say that this summer the Americans have been replaced by Italian and Spanish diners. American tourists usually spend more money in France than any other nationality and Paris's most expensive establishments are suffering. The astronomically expensive Georges V hotel has noted a 20% drop in American guests since last year.

And the problem is more widespread than a lack of Americans. On Thursday the tourism ministry released statistics that showed even the Germans' fondness for French holidays had waned this year. Tourist officials point the finger of blame in every direction. Apart from Iraq, the year began badly with reports that millions of gallons of black sludge from the Prestige tanker's oil spill were to blacken Brittany's beaches. Fury over government reforms triggered train strikes and transport chaos, and dozens of France's most popular music and arts festivals were called off by striking performers.

The fear of Sars and unspecified terrorist threats has kept non-European visitors away, while British tourists are discouraged by the strength of the euro. Forest fires in the south prompted more cancellations. Even the good weather is cited as a problem; northern Europeans won't pay to sunbathe in France when they can do it in their own back gardens.

France has historically been the world's favourite tourist destination and last year 77 million foreign visitors generated €100bn - 7% of France's GDP. This year the profits are going to be scant.

It's hard to spot a single American in the Disneyland Paris complex - in Casey's diner, there is no one to explain the mysteries of US cuisine to the French. "It's a bit tasteless. I guess that's how they prefer it," says Veronique Le Leu, a school teacher from Brittany, chewing through a hot dog.

But the real disaster for the company has been the shrivelling of European visitors and the failure of the new park to attract guests. Numbers are dropping at precisely the time officials need them to boom; if debts were to be repaid, the 13.1 million visitors to the park last year needed to grow to 16m to 17m by 2004, which seems highly unlikely.

Those staff members too new to know about the strict sanctions for careless talkers admit that the mood behind the scenes is bleak. "There's been no mention of the financial problems, but everyone has read about them in the papers," says Philippe, a student earning holiday money by selling candyfloss. "You worry about your job when it's like this. Everyone who comes here loves it, and most people who work here love it - even if the pay is bad.

"Ten years ago, the town where I live was surrounded by fields and it was hard to find work. Now it's flourishing. Without Eurodisney the whole region would die."