I don't know of anyone among my colleagues in the media who came away from the London 2012 Opening Ceremony feeling anything other than sheer elation at one of THE great spectacles. Like many in our business, I have seen plenty of Opening Ceremonies at dozens of sporting events but nothing came close to last night's jaw-dropping Olympic Stadium extravaganza, magically showcasing British life through the centuries and everything positive about this green and pleasant land. Colourful, creative, humorous, exciting, inspiring. It was, quite simply, pitch-perfect.

What a shame, then, that there had to be a downside. While every resource imaginable went into to providing a memorable occasion, those responsible for helping the media get around let many of us down badly and, with unfortunate timing, sent out a reminder that not everything about this country is as efficient as the impeccable detail that went into the Ceremony itself.

First there was the issue of actually finding where, in this great labyrinth of a Stadium, the media were seated. Not once, not twice, but three times, I and a couple of colleagues went round in circles courtesy of false information.  Sign-posting was virtually non-existent until we came across a couple of lone volunteers holding up a "media" flag in the midst thousands of spectators rushing by in different directions. It was like trying find the proverbial needle in a haystack.

Once we found the correct entrance, there was the rigmarole of where to sit. The media tickets, rather like those distributed by a budget airline, were not numbered meaning you grabbed where you could.  That meant moving right to the bottom of the stadium – not a bad position in terms of being close to the action but a dangerous move given the forecast of heavy showers and with no roof to cover us.

Fans use the Union Jack flag to keep dry while it rains during the London 2012 Olympic Opening Ceremony

I couldn't agree more with my colleague David Owen when he describes as "not good enough" the fact that a length of plastic sheeting was all the organisers offered us as a means of shelter from the elements. In the end, thank goodness, it only rained twice – and then only for 10 minutes at a time – but that cannot excuse the lack of forethought  towards keeping dry scores of scribes sending millions of pro-London 2012 column inches  across the globe. And, more importantly, making sure our laptop computers – capricious animals at the best of times – were safe from being equally drenched.

But then came the cruellest cut of all, the moment when reality set in and organisational skills went out the window. The moment when, like roadworks with no workmen in sight or those all-too-common signal failures which grind tube lines to a halt, you realised you were living in a country which, at its best, is tolerant, multi-cultural  and scenically so varied; but which at its worst can resemble a Third World nation.

With the clock ticking past 1am and not long to go before the tube network was to close down for the night, there we were back at the media centre waiting for the shuttle bus to take us to nearby Stratford International to catch the javelin train for the mere seven-minute journey to St Pancras. Until now, it has to be said, the service had been impeccable, the javelin train itself an example of modern transport technology at its smooth and swift best. So surely, given the hour and everyone's need to get home, nothing could go wrong? Oh yes it could. No shuttle buses, we were told, for at least 30 minutes because the short route to Stratford had, inexplicably, been blocked off either by the police, the organisers, or both. Any explanation? None...

Passengers board the high-speed Javelin train serving the Olympic Park in Stratford

The delay meant, for scores of us, the certainty of missing last trains which, in turn, led to panic and the unpalatable thought of having to stay overnight in the media centre camped out on chairs with, in my case at least, no change of clothes or even a toothbrush. Well you don't take a toothbrush to the Opening Ceremony, now do you?

And then, dear readers, came the Godsend known as Peter.

Peter, who I didn't know from Adam and who declined to give me his surname, was emerging from the adjacent car park when approached, ad hoc, by your distressed correspondent. "Can you drive me somewhere," I pleaded.  "Anywhere."  Any station, or anywhere outside the Olympic Park where I could get a cab. I knew there was chance Peter could tell me politely where to go but I was desperate. "Hop in", I could have sworn I heard him respond.  "I'll do better than that. Whereabouts do you live?"

No words, I can assure you, could describe my sense of relief.

I learned that Peter was an Australian who had come over from Sydney to cover the Games for the official Olympic broadcast service. Naturally he didn't know the outskirts of London too well and I didn't have the heart to tell him that not only did I live on the other side of the capital but my car was stuck in my local station car park. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll take you there."

And so he did, even waiting to make sure my car hadn't been clamped or towed away.

The London 2012 Olympic Stadium is illuminated during the Opening Ceremony

So thank you, Peter, for your extraordinary generosity after having the end of your evening so rudely and abruptly interrupted. Thank you for helping me get home in one piece.

Late nights, as every reporter knows, are part of the routine when covering major sporting events like the Olympics. Maybe not as late as the Opening Ceremony but that, let's not forget, was a glorious one-off occasion. Perhaps I should have known better than to think everything would run smoothly. 

London 2012, take note...

Andrew Warshaw is a former sports editor of The European, the newspaper that broke the Bosman story in the 1990s, the most significant issue to shape professional football as we know it today. Before that, he worked for the Associated Press for 13 years in Geneva and London. He is now the chief football reporter for insidethegames and insideworldfootball. Follow him on Twitter.