After the euphoria of the opening days, the reality of staging the "perfect" event has tempered the Olympic spirit, wites Eleanor Ainge Roy from Beijing.
The weather in Beijing last week turned cool and rainy, as autumn descended on China.
The stinking hot 30degC-plus temperatures have passed, and so too has the heady atmosphere which characterised Beijing in the week leading up to the opening ceremony.
Then the air seemed to sizzle, and we took it for granted that the Olympics would go off with a bang.
Then I wrote that people were coming together at night to celebrate; to talk and eat and watch the clock tick down in Tiananmen Square.
Then there was fun for locals and foreigners alike to share.
But following the terrorist bombings in the Xinjiang Province of Western China, security was stepped up in the capital city, and frivolities steadily subsided.
The protests of Students for a Free Tibet also added to the Government's increased drive for calm and control.
On the dawn of the opening ceremony, thousands of people gathered in Tiananmen Square to watch the Chinese flag rise over the Forbidden City.
This sacred act was followed by a troupe of dancers and acrobats, who had been training for months for their moment to shine in the centre of Beijing.
But their performance was watched by only a small group of media; the Chinese public were kept too far back to see, a sudden decision by authorities who were wary of the potential of crowds - any crowds - in Tiananmen Square.
It was similar during the cycling road race last week, when crowds gathering in the street found they were unable to watch the event.
The father of a New Zealand athlete competing found he, too, was not allowed to watch his son, and became angry with police who blocked his way.
"I have come all the way from New Zealand for this event, and I can't even get within 600m of my son.
This is a tragedy for the Olympic Games," he said.
China's quest for the perfect event is starting to rankle.
But Chinese people themselves are staunch in their defence of the Games, and their right to watch and celebrate it in their own way.
"The authorities have asked us to stay inside and watch it on TV, and we are happy to comply, as they are just trying to make it safer for us," says Delun (45), an investment banker who lives in a complex on the outskirts of Beijing.
"I wouldn't want to go the actual events, anyway. The queues are too long and you can't see the close-ups like on TV."
The 2008 Beijing Olympics is an event designed for television.
Delun's wife, Biyu, says she watches the Games from 7am in the morning, to very late at night, and the banker says men in his office have taken to napping at lunchtime to recover from late nights spent watching the Games on TV.
"Everyone is watching," he says.
"But in the privacy of their own homes. It's the number one thing at the moment, but there is no need to go out . . .
"Chinese people, we are more introverted, and we don't celebrate or show our excitement on the street like Westerners do.
"I think perhaps Chinese people know far more about other countries than other countries know about us. That's one of the great opportunities of the Games, for people to learn about China and our ways."
When questioned about the controversy surrounding the young girl who lip-synched during the opening ceremony, the couple knew nothing about it, but felt, though not very principled, it was appropriate in the circumstances.
ABC correspondent Stephen McDonald, who has lived in Beijing for two years, says he has been disappointed by the muted Games, and that usually, Beijing is a hedonistic and vibrant town.
"I think the authorities have made a big mistake.
"Before the Tibet uprising in April the Olympics were planned to really show Beijing off, but after that happened their priorities changed.
"Beijing is so dull and different at the moment, a completely different city, really.
"Prostitutes, beggars, kebab men, the pancake men - all the fascinating street culture has been swept away. Nightclubs now have to close by 2am.
"And yes, things are running smoothly, but is it fun?"
Eleanor Ainge Roy is a freelance journalist and studies politics and history at the University of Otago.
