The Olympics Opening Ceremony

OK, so it's 1.00am, and I should be in bed, but you have to admit, it was good. It was very good. I liked it. I liked it a lot.

I understood the cultural references - James Bond, Mr Bean. That's always a relief to a returning expat. It can feel like you're missing an in-joke, when people refer to something that, because you've lived outside the country, you simply don't know about. TOWIE, for example. So I was glad I could understand Bond, Bean, and Chariots of Fire.

I loved the copper petals coming together to make a cauldron. I really enjoyed the fact that the torches were passed on to a group of young athletes, not public figures yet, who took centre stage for the end of the Olympic flame journey. Much better to look forward than back.

I thought the ceremony should have ended with the fireworks, rather than Paul McCartney. Perhaps you had to be there. Perhaps it needed a good arm-waving singalong at the end, to send the crowd off happy. But could someone point out to me the significance of "Hey Jude"? I mean, if you have to go Beatles singalong, why not have everyone singing "Imagine"? That's far more in the Olympic spirit. Imagine all the people, living life in peace, and all that.

The bit I liked best was the parade of the teams from 204 different countries. There were some fabulous costumes in there. Senegal in elegant yellow, you looked wonderful. America, I'm sorry, but you looked like British Airways cabin crew, with your navy berets and co-ordinating neck scarves. Bulgaria, in your blue and white check suits, you should just be glad that medals are awarded on sporting prowess and not dress sense - though golf is going to be included as an Olympic sport in 2016. You'll be well prepared for that.

I was irritated that all the announcements were made in English and French. Why French? English, because this is England, and we speak English in England. And French, because...? We reckoned it was as a courtesy to the French geezer from the International Olympic Committee, Jacques Rogge. Rogge, the Frogge.

One other little niggle... Why is the British team called 'Team GB'? I am offended on behalf of my Northern Irish compatriots. We are (correct me if I'm wrong) the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. To call our Olympic athletes 'Team GB' is wrong, lazy, and a bit offensive, honestly. It should be 'Team UK'. Or perhaps the Northern Irish members took one look at the white and gold Elvis suits that they'd have to wear, and said "count us out".

So all in all, the Olympics have got off to a fine start. London, beaucoup de points. Oh, and a new word has snuck into the English language. Always interesting to get a new word. Were you listening as the coach took the oath on behalf of all the coaches? He said something about the "principles of Olympism". Olympism? Really? Olympism? Well, I kind of like it, now I've typed it a few times.

Happy Games, everyone.