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The four horsemen of the Apocalypse were in hot pursuit as we set out on the eerily empty Queen Elizabeth Way, bound for the U.S. border.

"Going to see Mickey, are you?" asked the border guard as my wife, two daughters and I crossed the ice-encrusted Peace Bridge at the stroke of midnight. "You folks apprehensive about going down there?"

Not especially. But it echoed unpleasant warnings we had heard for weeks. Well-meaning doomsayers ranked Walt Disney World as the worst destination a family could choose, what with an almost-biblical onset of war, pestilence, economic recession and brutal weather. We would be sitting ducks for terrorists attracted by the No. 1 symbol of hedonistic U.S. capitalism; for the wrath of those fearing the spread of SARS; and for flag-waving, Canada-hating Americans.

Wrong, wrong and wrong. We could scarcely have felt safer in the security-conscious embrace of Disney. Nor did we encounter the slightest hostility from the natives. With our "God Bless America" sticker propped on the dashboard -- car-paint insurance, we called it -- the ensuing 10 days were a badly needed escape; a wondrous antidote to the unrelenting gloom of the new millennium.

Whether because of unpleasant images that airplanes conjure up these days, or the prospect of arriving at the airport to find an empty hangar and a "for sale" sign in the window, driving has lately acquired a distinct appeal.

Besides, where else but on the road can you wheel into towns named Eighty-Four or Old Economy Village, dine at Hoss's and Hi, Let's Eat!? or encounter a guy in a cheap porker outfit waving you into Pig Boy's Good Food? Not to mention slide by the aesthetic splendour of a magnolia-lined highway or a sunset over a Georgia bayou.

Driving also provides a gradual immersion into the endearing, appalling and just plain fascinating aspects of American culture. It builds anticipation and refreshes the soul. We found ourselves happily chewing up driving hours in the usual manner: car games, stiff-legged walks around highway rest areas to restore circulation; hour upon hour of my daughters Miri, 11, and Jodie, 7, belting out Shania Twain covers.

We ended up making such good time that we detoured into Flagler Beach -- north of Daytona -- for a few hours of ocean wave-jumping. Then, after 20 hours of driving and a mere $100 (U.S.) of gas, we approached the holy of holies for any kid raised since 1950: the cradle of North American theme park culture.

As the spires of Disney's Magic Kingdom came into view, the atmosphere in our van resembled a southern gospel church on Easter morning.

None of us had ever been to Walt Disney World -- inexplicable for a family that has frequented every water park or country fair from Binbrook to Gooderham, driven four times to Philadelphia's Sesame Place water park, and made Las Vegas a second home. To our shock, several legends immediately went up in smoke.

The first was that Disney World costs a fortune. True, passes are not especially cheap; a four-day Park Hopper pass is $199 (all amounts in U.S. dollars) for adults and $159 for youngsters. But there are few additional costs once you are in a park, and accommodation is available nearby for as low as $35 a night.

Another popular scare story has it that you are forced to park two or three states away. In fact, most lots are within an easy stroll or tram ride from the entrances.

Warnings that the parks are overwhelmingly complicated are equally false. Magic Kingdom, for example, is a cluster of theme areas radiating out from Cinderella's Palace. Moving between areas takes only a minute or two. Epcot, Animal Kingdom and Disney-MGM Studios are similarly manageable.

The spectrum of entertainment is immense. Magic Kingdom focuses on Disney characters and wholesome family rides. Epcot has thrill rides, futuristic displays, techno-games and several national pavilions. MGM is oriented toward movie themes, movie technology and animation, while Animal Kingdom emphasizes theatrical presentations, exotic-animal sighting, and jungle treks and rides.

We did run into some people who thought poorly of Animal Kingdom, comparing it to a zoo where visitors are pretty much limited to staring at animals staring dolefully back at you. However, we found it to have more than enough rides and performances.

It also bears mentioning that compared with many animal sanctuaries, the open spaces at Animal Kingdom are sufficiently generous that it doesn't leave a visitor feeling nauseated on behalf of the inmates.

Among the thrill rides, theatrical numbers and gentle rides that waft past realistic dioramas, the must-sees include 3-D attractions sprinkled around the four parks. Honey, I Shrunk the Audience, It's Tough to Be a Bug and Muppet*Vision 3-D are extremely popular 3-D movies enlivened by various things that explode in your face; butterflies that seem to flutter up your nose; and actual bubbles and raindrops falling from the ceiling.

The chief wimp in a family of wimps, I confess to having harboured dark fears that we would spend the week watching other people go around and around. A strong adherent to the theory of enlightened cowardice, my sole ride experience before this was a ferris wheel in 1987 -- and it didn't go so well. Within seconds of lift-off, I apologized to my startled fellow riders, knelt on the floor and wrapped my arms around the centre pole in a death embrace. My spinal deficiency has been transmitted to my daughters, who practically needed a handful of Gravol and a stiff shot of scotch just to get them on a merry-go-round. So it was with a fair bit of trepidation that we assessed the Dumbo ride. Chief detraction: It goes airborne. Chief mitigating factor: It has a joystick that moves it up and down, enabling the lily-livered to hover just 15 centimetres above the ground.

Our flight went unspeakably well. We were dumbfounded. Emboldened, we tried more of the tamer rides -- Peter Pan, Pirates of the Caribbean, The Haunted Mansion. Another Disney myth came crashing down. With a handful of notable exceptions, most of the rides wouldn't scare a four-year-old.

(Those with a taste for being plummeted upside down through space can rest assured that there are alternatives. However, we elected to save those for a future trip. Very far in the future.)

To avoid lineups, we made liberal use of the ingenious Fastpass system -- machines that spit out tickets that can be used within an hour-long window of opportunity. Upon your return, you enter a separate Fastpass line and leave the hoi polloi stewing in their own juices. For reasons that escape me, most people don't use Fastpass. Go figure.

When travelling with family, different age groups always have different interests, and the demarcation line between Miri and Jodie crystallized on our second afternoon. Jodie grew so obsessed with the authenticity of Disney characters that she tugged at Minnie's nose -- the sort of experiment that has made theme-park characters learn to live in fear of seven-year-olds.

Miri, meanwhile, took to supplying a running commentary on their fashion sense. ("You see [the Little Mermaid] Ariel's eyes? She is sooo wearing contacts.")

Catering to Jodie, we dutifully dragged ourselves into the Country Bear Jamboree. It turned out to be an unexpectedly droll send-up of hurtin' country music stereotypes. We encountered another sleeper while trying to compensate for the family diet of Coke and ice cream: an Epcot show named Food Rocks. It featured creatures imitating well-known singers, crooning amusing lyrics extolling the virtues of laudable food groups.

The lineup for the Kali River Ride was as enjoyable as the raft ride itself, winding through rooms reminiscent of Far Eastern cafés and hostels. Employ a slight suspension of disbelief, and you were in Kathmandu or Chiang Mai.

At Miri's insistence, we also became familiar figures at her personal favourite attraction, Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? The show is identical to the TV version in every way but one. The unctuous Regis Philbin role is filled by a far wittier host who sports an Ernie Eves oil-slick hairdo and a keen sense of irony. Getting caught up in the tension is unavoidable. Our button-fingers never became nimble enough to get us a spot in the "hot seat," but we nonetheless emerged with irregular heartbeats.

Epcot's Spaceship Earth is a 17-storey ride up a geodesic dome that takes you from the caveman era to outer space. It ranked high on our hit list, as did The Lion King, Pocahontas and Tarzan Rocks shows.

By midweek, we were ready to brave a "character" breakfast -- an experience that wise park-goers know to book about 35 years in advance. While Mickey, Goofy and Minnie stopped by our table periodically to smooch with Miri and Jodie, Disney rep Geoff Pointon outlined "the Disney vision."

As a young father, it seems, Walt Disney had run out of places to take his two daughters. After battling banks and civic officials to create California's Disneyland, he was disappointed to see it become hemmed in by suburbia. Walt tried again, in Orlando. Armed with a somewhat paranoid mistrust of authority, he purchased a tract of land twice the size of Manhattan and created his own fire department, water supply and vast security force. Notwithstanding corporate infighting since his death, Walt's philosophy continues more or less intact.

Put it down to foolish vacation euphoria, but I left young Mr. Pointon feeling convinced that Walt was perhaps the grandest of all Disney characters.

According to conventional wisdom, the other must-do events are the three nightly fireworks displays. Conventional wisdom is right. While Magic Kingdom's show is not particularly sensational, it has the advantage of going off over Cinderella's castle. The tableau is guaranteed to enchant children and bring a lump to the throat of anyone who used to plan their Sunday evenings around the Walt Disney hour, or harboured an unrequited crush on Mouseketeer Annette Funicello.

The Epcot show takes place on the park's man-made lake at dusk. We arrived two hours early, staking out a patio table at the restaurant attached to the Mexican pavilion. It proved to be an ideal perch, allowing Susan and me to knock back pitchers of margaritas while we all marvelled at the steady stream of disappointed latecomers who were unable to secure a spot.

MGM-Universal's Fantasmic is best saved for last. Based on an epic battle between Mickey and the forces of evil, it is a fireworks/water show of the first order.

On our final day, we returned from whence we had started -- the superb Typhoon Lagoon water park. It has a suitably tropical feel and a marvellous wave pool that periodically sends a tidal wave rumbling toward hundreds of screaming body-surfers. Swimmers are tossed about like leaves, bikini tops fly off, toddlers disappear into the frothing surf, and it all becomes quite impossible to leave.

To be sure, Disney World is an orgy of product placement and self-advertisement. Convergence? These people invented convergence. But while some visitors must recoil in horror, we found it unimaginably efficient, clean and pleasant. Looking For The Flaw eventually turned into a family game for us. We never found one.

I leave it to those purer of motive and lifestyle to debate the aesthetics and moral underpinnings of the bottomless Disney cashbox. My personal view is simply that nature offers a fleeting, short-term rental on children before they leap from the nest. For anyone who wants to deposit a few lifelong memories in the interim, Disney World is the place.

Just as Walt intended it.

For more information about Walt Disney World, call (407) 824-4321 or visit http://www.disney-world.com.