David Leggat: So, what was all the fuss about?

The first of a daily column from the Herald's staff writers at the Olympics


And so, Athens arrives at its Black Friday, its day of reckoning, ready for the world.

The Greeks - whose motto amid the years of biting criticisms of their efficiency, or lack of it, might well have been "what's all the fuss about?" - have done what they told us they would do.

The Games will start on time, the venues are ready, the transport system is in place.

Just close your eyes to some of the imperfections on the periphery of the venues.

No matter that work is continuing at all hours up to the opening ceremony tomorrow morning, or that the odd drain is missing.

Rain in Athens in August? It's more likely to snow in Queen St in December.

The scene around the key Olympic sites is unfolding like a time-lapse film. Where three days ago vast parking lots were empty spaces, now there is a jumble of activity.

Buses are more frequent, bodies are bringing energy and bustle to the city.

The traffic cops are whistling frantically as motorists adjust to not being able to turn into roads they've turned into every day for 20 years.

And there's much to like about life in Athens.

On one level everyday life goes on with barely a pause. Shops open at a leisurely hour.

It's hot and hazy, but the vibrancy is at odds with the heat and dust.

Stuttering attempts at the language are met with a grin and "no, no it's okay, you want two coffees" in broken English.

There is a genuine excitement at what is about to happen in their country. There might also be a measure of pride at what it has achieved to make the Games work.

So on the eve of the official Olympic kickoff, let's give the Greeks a pat on the back.

And trust that their opening ceremony is an occasion to savour. They deserve a good break.

Nick, our friendly cafe owner in the picturesque, historic Plaka district, is shaping as the sage on all things Athens.

It was 34C around mid-morning this week.

"Don't worry," he said, wiping a torrent of sweat from his brow. "It will be 38 degrees for the opening ceremony."

Worry? Who's worrying?