The last day of the Olympic Games falls like the dawn of the morning after the party. A lot of the guests are already in bed, the hosts are starting to stretch and yawn suggestively, and everyone who hasn’t picked up the hint is exhausted, aside from the last few partyhards gathered doing God knows what in the dark corners. Serbia and Croatia were playing a game of water polo, Germany and Denmark had a handball match, there was some bike racing over at the velodrome, and people were heaving weights at the Arena Sud. The bunting had slipped, the shelves were empty, there was mess everywhere, and the cleaning crews were already starting in, getting everything ready to go all over again in the Paralympics.
It was a good Games. Just about everyone agreed on that. Paris rose to the moment, like Céline Dion striding out on to the esplanade of the Eiffel Tower in her shimmering Christian Dior gown to sing L’Hymne à l’amour.
