JAN MOIR goes contained in the Disney housing property: The 2,000 properties begin at £1.9m, there’s streets for the over-55s and decor consists of Mickey wallpaper and Pluto bowls…so would YOU purchase a home from the Mouse?

Joe wants to know if I want a three-car or a two-car garage in my Disney dream home in the Southern California desert.

‘It would be really helpful,’ he says, pen poised over his notepad, ‘to understand what is best for you.’

We are standing inside the Westwind II show house, a 4,485 square foot, two-storey property with four bedrooms, four bathrooms, two half bathrooms, an upstairs guest suite and generous outside space with a barbeque area big enough to spit-roast a bison or two, should you wish. It is around 11am on a spring morning in March, but already the desert heat is creeping over 70 degrees.

Joe has pulled back the folding glass walls – he calls them sliders – on both sides of the soaring ‘great room’, which includes a kitchen complete with gourmet food island and a bar area that is bigger than many actual bars of my fond acquaintance. Sunshine sparkles on the blue waters of the jacuzzi, glitters on the inviting pool in the courtyard, and dapples across the ten-seat outdoor dining table.

Prices begin at around $2million (£1.9 million) and rise to £3.5 million (£2.7million) for this slice of luxe desert living.

‘What do you think?’ asks Joe.

What I am thinking is this; do I really want a Mickey Mouse house in a new desert community, especially one billed as a ‘creative oasis for Disneyland fans’ looking for ‘new ways to make Disney a bigger part of their lives’.

Although not marketed as a retirement village, there are streets sectioned off for the over-55s and the terror that I might end up there is overwhelming. Me in a plunge pool with Betsy from Minnesota who is wearing mouse ears with her Bambi print bikini and wants to discuss plot points in The Lion King over a Little Mermaid mocktail? ‘Gawrsh!’ as Goofy would say.

I think it might be, um, a little too big for me, is what I tell Joe.

‘Okay, so let me show you the Windsong,’ he says, reaching for his iPad. ‘This one’s gonna be 3,500 square feet. Now. What is your bed count?’

Some believe that Disney only make films, run the world’s favourite theme parks and launch the occasional cruise – but think again, Dumbo. Welcome to Cotino, the first of a new kind of Disney town which the company are calling a ‘Storyliving by Disney Community’. It hopes to create a cityscape which will expand the Disney legacy beyond its parks and resorts, crafting a residential community where inhabitants can actively participate in Disney-themed immersive environments. Good grief. It’s even worse than I imagined.

Josh D’Amaro, the chairman of Disney Parks, Experiences and Products, simply says that the company is ‘expanding storytelling to storyliving,’ whatever that might mean.

So the Walt Disney Company are building a very different kind of magic kingdom on a 618-acre site on the outskirts of Rancho Mirage, the wealthiest of all the golf-and-cocktails resort cities in the Coachella Valley.

Along with neighbours Palm Springs and Palm Desert, this area has long been a playground for wealthy sunseekers; a convergence of presidential politics, royalty and Rat Pack era showbiz, with streets named after famous residents.

Cotino is amusingly flanked by Frank Sinatra Drive, Gerald Ford Drive and Bob Hope Drive, while its south-western border is opposite the pink walls of the famous Annenberg Estate and its grand Sunnylands house, where the Queen and Prince Philip once visited.

The first inhabitants move in next month and by the time it is finished in the next few years, the master-planned community will boast 1,900 houses, 400 hotel bedrooms, a chunk of condominiums plus shops, restaurants and a clubhouse modelled on the Parr House in Disney Pixar’s hit The Incredibles 2. The futuristic home is where superheroes Mr Incredible and his wife Elastigirl – he is brave and she is bendy, think Alec Baldwin and wife Hilaria but without the squabbles – live with their three children.

Now it is being reincarnated by Disney creatives – or ‘Imagineers’ as they are known – as a multi-functional space where guests can attend events, celebrate milestones and enjoy overnight stays in Incredibles-themed bedrooms. Let’s hope no one in the next room will be shouting ‘Trampoline me!’ as Mr Incredible once cried out to Elastigirl in the heat of a rescue mission.

The Parr House will overlook Cotino Bay, a 24-acre man-made swimmable lagoon with beaches and a mile-long promenade around its shore. Yes, correct. A fake lake bigger than 11 Olympic swimming pools built in the middle of the desert amid the worst sustained drought conditions California has known for years. It is fantastical, ambitious and obviously contentious. ‘A Disney lagoon in the desert? What could be more stupid?’ was a headline in the LA Times last September. Some of the locals agree.

Retired podiatrist Dr Mark Wolpa lives with his wife Linda in Rancho Mirage. He has written letters of complaint to the local newspaper and says he is ‘bewildered’ every time he drives past the site.

‘It is such a huge project, right in the middle of the desert,’ he says, concerned the developers have been misinformed about the water table in the area.

Disney say the lagoon will use no more water than an 18-hole golf course – there are 120 in the valley – although the initial plan for a 37-acre lagoon was reduced to help the water requirement.

Rancho Mirage City Council approved the project, but many wonder what the effect will be on their community. In this promised land of gated country clubs and millionaire estates, is Cotino just another pricey enclave where the wealthy are isolated from reality in a fake environment, just like Anna in Frozen, trapped inside the eternal winter of Arendelle?

Swap that out for perpetual summer and a hot season, from June to September, where the average daily temperature is 100 degrees. During a July heatwave last year, Palm Springs recorded an all-time high of 124 degrees, hot enough to dehydrate the fruit slices for your healthy Californian breakfast granola.

Now I understand that you need every inch of garage space you can get because if you leave your car on the street in summer, it turns into a toaster.

Joe’s let-the-outside-in sliders are impressive, but when the going gets hot they would be shut fast against the oppressive heat, with the air con inside turned up full blast.

What about the fake lake? Won’t it boil up like a giant tureen of bubbling blue soup?

No, a smiley Disney person tells me. Cotino Bay will use technology by a company called Crystal Lagoons, which promises to keep the water temperature down by using a closed-circuit cooling system which captures waste heat, dissipates it through the lagoon, then recycles the cooled water. Of course it does, I nod. How could it be any other way?

Despite these temperature extremes, Cotino is not solely a second-home destination and is intended for year-round living. In addition, there will be restrictions on short term secondary lets, meaning that homeowners here could only Air B&B their properties for a minimum stay of 30 days.

Disney regard Cotino Bay as the main attraction, but freakishly there won’t be any marine life in there, just as there are no spikes on any of the cacti in the meticulously landscaped showhouse gardens. Nature denuded is nature controlled. But where is all this aggressive colonisation of the desert leading?

In this case, straight to a nirvana of sunshine and service, all provided by the House of Mouse. For most potential homebuyers here, the lure is the heat – outside the ferocious summer months – but also the promise of the world class service for which the company is famed.

Across America, Disney is widely regarded to have a gold standard in customer service, a commitment to excellence the company call ‘guestology’.

Americans consider a visit to a Disney resort or theme park almost as a constitutional right – although there is growing criticism that recent price hikes are pushing a visit beyond the budget of the average family.

In 2024, both Disneyland and Walt Disney World raised the price of peak-time tickets and annual passes by six per cent, along with increases in the cost of in-park amenities. Last year also saw a dip in visitor numbers to the Florida parks because of Hurricane Milton, but in previous years 58m people – 800,000 of them Brits – made the pilgrimage.

However, the national devotion to all things Disney remains strong. Those who have grown up visiting the Disney attractions and enjoying the Disney hospitality want more of that Disney experience where everybody knows your name, remembers how you like your steak cooked and treats you with unfailing friendly courtesy.

Tellingly, Disney employees are not called staff, they are Cast Members – a troupe who put on a Disney show every Disney day.

Here at Cotino, they are specifically Disney Sales Cast Members and patrol the on-site sales office with glassy-eyed zeal, smart in their polo shirts and name tags. You can ask them anything and they will respond with fluid charm and a positivity that never, not once, falters.

Isn’t the price of some of these houses a bit extortionate? ‘I’m sad you think that. A lot of people find it very good value for money,’ beams one.

The first families are moving into their new Cotino homes this April, but how will they cope with living on a giant building site for years? ‘People don’t mind. You can squirrel yourself away,’ says another.

What about any extra costs? You have the price of the house, plus the cost of buying the lot, plus the annual taxes and fees – and then you have to stump up for the club membership which is voluntary but is the entire point of being here, so why would you not? That has a $20,000 introductory fee plus additional annual subscriptions. You even have to pay to visit the beach! Which is not even private! Members of the public can pay to use it, too! I’m getting hysterical!

‘We are waving that introductory fee for the first year,’ soothes a Cast Member as my calculator threatens to combust.

On the day I visit, the six show homes – six different designs built by three Californian construction companies – are teeming with interested parties who are ferried around the site on golf carts. We tootle down streets called Brilliance Avenue, Radiance Drive, Tide Swell Way and Blue Oasis Drive. We pootle past neat verges landscaped with desert cacti and clumps of succulents, we notice the green hydromulch sprayed on the sand to grow grass, we admire the soaring wooden struts of the Parr House in the distance and the footprint of the lagoon being carved out of the desert earth.

We prowl around the luscious properties, cooing over the tasteful décor and the subtle Disney presence; a black and white photograph of Walt in a hallway, a Pluto dog bowl in a utility room, Mickey Mouse wallpaper and rugs in a child’s bedroom.

‘Is this standard?’ is the constant question we ask estate agents as we admire the fittings and fixtures in this magic kingdom of quartz countertops, primary suites, premium closets and flex spaces. ‘No, it is an upgrade,’ is the usual reply.

Who are these people desperate to buy into the Disney dream? Ted Geier is a lecturer in Disney Studies at UC Davis University in California. He describes the urge to retire into a planned community such as Cotino as a characteristic of Boomer and post-Boomer consumer ideology and he has a clear vision of potential Cotino customers.

‘Folks who already have Disney credit cards or are at least longtime Disney theme park aficionados seem like the most likely targets,’ he says. ‘And regardless, the chance to live in a brand-new retirement community at a certain economic tier will always appeal to some. I think this is the spot for the New American Royalty; the wealthy and those who aspire to the Princess lifestyle popular in the films and parks.’

Among the aspirants are retirees, golf fanatics, snowbirds who fly down from Canada and the frozen north, desperate for some sun.

There are also the Disney Adults to consider, that curious group of grown-ups who are obsessed with all things Disney and collectively spend many millions of dollars on theme park visits and merchandise.

They watch all the films, they subscribe to the Disney channels, they dress up as Disney characters and when it is not entirely advisable to parade around in full Buzz Lightyear regalia or Tinker Bell wings, they go ‘Disneybonding’ instead, a type of informal cosplay in which they simply dress in the colour palette of their favourite character – play without the cos, if you like. Nutters.

Sarah Gilliland is a self-confessed Disney Adult with annual passes to both Walt Disney World and Universal Orlando Resort. She lives in North Carolina – where coincidentally the second Storyliving by Disney Community is being constructed, an even bigger project of 4,000 homes, situated just outside the town of Raleigh.

‘I am intrigued by the idea and if money was no object, I’d be there,’ she says. ‘I think Disney wants to be a part of people’s stories, part of their lives, and people want that too. I have always judged other travels by my experiences with Disney because they’ve always been top notch. So, when something goes awry, I always say “well, it’s not Disney”.’

And this is not Disney’s first venture into real estate. In 1994, the Walt Disney Company built a town called Celebration, situated just outside Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida. Over an area of 10.7 square miles, it housed 11,000 people and was the embodiment of Walt Disney’s original dream of an Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow (EPCOT). Yet after ten years Disney pulled out – never quite explaining why – selling its ownership of Celebration in 2004.

Is there any guarantee they won’t do the same thing here?

‘I can’t envisage a scenario in which that would happen,’ says a Sales Cast Member, on script as ever. In the Cotino fine print on the promotional literature, there is even a warning that the lagoon might not exist as depicted by the AI/CGI – and might not even exist at all in the future.

Cotino might be a dystopian nightmare of guestology and Goofy-is-God mania to some, but it cannot be denied that the desert landscape out here is beautiful. This weird, nascent Disney town is situated in a valley ringed by snowcapped mountains which are tinged orange by the sunrise and pink by the sunset. The light is radiant, the warm air is clean and dry and the utter suavity of the neighbourhood, with its mid-century architecture and old school cocktail gaiety is a tonic for the soul, for to drink a martini here is to drink American history.

At his ten-acre Twin Palms estate nearby, Frank Sinatra held parties by his piano-shaped swimming pool. At Sunnylands, Queen Elizabeth once dined on rack of lamb and maple syrup souffle, toasting her hosts with Dom Perignon served in Baccarat glasses. Now the neighbourhood is to be colonised by thousands of Disney devotees in various stages of arrested development, worshipping the legacy of a big-eared mouse while dipping their toes into a fake lake inside a gated estate.

Every oasis is not a mirage, is the official Cotino slogan. Yet from the upper terraces of the gleaming new homes in this luxury residential community, as you regard the misty vistas of the green hydromulch sprayed deep in the desert, a mirage is exactly what it looks like.

Additional reporting by Barbara McMahon