Ann Johansson for The New York Times  The dining room at Napa Rose.  WHEN I told a New York friend I was heading to Disneyland to explore its appeal for adults, his immediate retort was that it would be a very brief visit. And when our group, not a person under 35, walked through the gates of Disneyland on a warm Saturday and contemplated the crush of elbow-high humanity before us, I wondered if perhaps he was right.  The Carthay Circle Lounge at California Adventure.  Yet seven hours and eight attractions into my first day, a bit exhausted and woozy from the jumps and jerks of our final ride — a bone-jarring if thrilling 10-story plunge in darkness — I began to realize that it might not be necessary to see Disney with a child in order to appreciate it. By my third day, as we ended it at the World of Color, the nighttime extravaganza of light, water and projections (enhanced, perhaps, by dinner at a high-end restaurant that included much wine), I was ready to summon my dubious friend west.  There are few corporations that appeal so singularly to children (and that reach so pervasively into their lives) as the Walt Disney Company. Is there a Disney movie character that has not been memorialized with a tube of toothpaste or a bedroom set?  But nearly one-third of the people who attend the Disney resorts in Anaheim, Calif., and Orlando, Fla., are adults who come without children, a Disney demographic so established that there is an official name for them: “nonfamily guests.”  To be sure, many of those nonfamily guests are boomers chasing down old memories. It is a popular destination for nostalgia-tinged weddings (over 1,000 at Disneyland and Disney World every year). But Walt Disney himself once said that Disney’s success rested in part on creating “a believable world of dreams that appeals to all age groups.”  And while Disney does not market specifically to older adults, the rising roster of restaurants serving alcohol in California Adventure, a part of the resort that opened in 2001 adjacent to alcohol-free Disneyland, suggests that Disney has no intention of ignoring them, either.  Unlike many of the nonfamily guests, I felt no nostalgic pull, having not set foot in a Disney park until I was a junior in college. On my latest visit I was mainly curious to find out whether my moment to enjoy the park had passed. So I organized an expedition of a few friends, including one who has been a regular visitor for years.  Aware of the potential for mortification, I set up some ground rules: first and foremost, I would avoid rides that would flip me upside down or twirl me like a top. It is forgivable when an 8-year-old gets sick — and impressive to watch the Disney cleanup crew spring out of nowhere with mops and buckets — but adults know how to avoid this, and should.  I also promised myself not to be goaded onto rides that frightened me (that’s you, Space Mountain). And finally, no mouse ears. No one wants that photo out there.  If you’ve never been to Disneyland, it’s hard to appreciate the rush of happiness that hits you walking through the turnstile into what is essentially an enormous sun-sparkled cartoon. Yes, it is a gaudy celebration of Americana, unrealistically perfect and flamboyantly promotional. And yes, you have to pay for it; the price of a one-day Park Hopper pass for those age 10 and over (which gets you entry to Disneyland and California Adventure) went up to $125, from $105 earlier this year.  But if you can surrender, it is a true escape. The weather on our visit (on all our visits; this is Southern California after all) was Uncle Walt-perfect: a soothing 80 degrees with not a touch of wind or humidity. “The happiest place on Earth,” the announcer reminded us from a speaker somewhere near the Mark Twain Riverboat, drawing our eyes to the lush topiaries molded into Disney characters.  First stop was the Indiana Jones Adventure, a serviceable-if-not-extraordinary ride that didn’t exist when I visited Orlando in 1974. And here came Lesson No. 1, new to me, but old news to Disney veterans: Get a Disney Fastpass. It is possible to waste a lot of time standing in line at Disney (we saw an 80-minute wait posted for Splash Mountain). So as soon as you enter, swing by everything on your must-do list and grab a free Fastpass, which allows you return at an assigned time for a minimal wait.  From my experience, the rides that work best for adults (and there are quite a few of them) combine narrative with trippy special effects. They should also be more exhilarating than traumatizing. Soarin’ Over California, one of the newer rides in California Adventure, is in some ways tailor-made for grown-ups: the thrill of movement combined with a bird’s-eye geographic and cultural tour of California in a simulated hang-gliding ride. Thanks to an array of special effects, riders feel as if they are clipping the tops of landmarks like the Golden Gate Bridge and Yosemite, swooping low over the vineyards of Napa and gliding between buildings in downtown Los Angeles. I did it three times.  ADAM NAGOURNEY is the Los Angeles bureau chief of The New York Times.
Thereâs nostalgia, yes, and trying out the new rides. But thereâs also the option to duck into a quiet bar.