The opening ceremony was eagerly awaited by Parisians and tourists from all over the world. Unhappy with the capacity restrictions (which had been halved), many flocked to the banks of the Seine to try to take part in a daring ceremony that would go down in Olympic history.

The numerous police checks around the Seine, the deserted streets in the so-called reserved zone, the militarisation of Paris against the threat of attacks and the downpours did not deter people from trying to take part in the festivities.

The security perimeter meant that many streets were deserted, shops were either closed or sparsely populated, and Paris was covered in protective barriers to ensure the security of an event that many intelligence experts considered to be a major challenge.

In terms of security, the objective was achieved, even if it meant inconveniencing tourists and Parisians who had lost their sense of normality days before.

The six-kilometre stretch of river that served as the stage was closely guarded by thousands of police, while the audience, mostly aged between 20 and 40, tried to watch in the French capital's torrential rain.

Admission required not only a prefecture QR code but also a ticket, making it impossible for the general public to attend the games and keeping them away from a river they consider their own.

Barricades and long queues of hopeful residents and tourists lined up at every corner, believing that entry to the celebrations was free, only to find that the free invitations had been allocated months ago. Many without tickets tried various excuses to persuade the police to let them in, but to no avail.

The barges passing through the area were cheered on by the 300,000 people who managed to get in, while those who couldn't get in had to settle for listening to the atmosphere from 100 metres away, with no chance of even seeing a giant screen.

As the minutes passed, the rain became the protagonist of the Parisian evening and people began to leave, realising that it would be impossible to enter or witness anything, even from a distance.

The only people without tickets who managed to  enjoy the proceedings were those privileged enough to have a balcony overlooking the Seine; the rest had to make do in the nearby bars, which were empty at first but filled up as the hours passed and the rain intensified.

The various entry points, which coincided with iconic Parisian cultural sites, were orderly and without major complications, thanks to thorough and repeated checks. At the Louvre, queues stretched for almost half a kilometre, requiring patience from spectators, but at other sites the queues were only 50 to 100 metres long, a normal figure given the number of crowds.

The rain gave the televised event a more imposing backdrop than artistica director Thomas Jolly himself had planned. He had spent more than a year and a half preparing the nearly four-hour spectacle, which brought together 8,000 athletes and 206 national delegations with the artistry of Lady Gaga, Aya Nakamura and up to 80 Moulin Rouge artists, including the Mona Lisa emerging from the Seine, for the whole world to see.

The ceremony ended with a mix of iconic Parisian locations, dances and various performances, which were not seen by those trying to get in, despite the 25 public locations around the city where people could watch on giant screens.

People preffered not to watch on giant screens in the pouring rain; they wanted to be part of the biggest Olympic stage show in history, the first to be held outside a closed stadium, something that was not possible for the vast majority. They had to settle for peeks on their rain-soaked mobile phones under umbrellas that couldn't keep up with the rain. Most missed judo giant Teddy Riner and three-time Olympic athletics champion Marie-José Perec, who officially lit the cauldron to mark the start of the thirty-third modern Olympic Games.