That is the best account of the CHOGM Opening Spectacle put up for a Queen and over 40 presidents and prime ministers from around the globe. It is thanks to everyone that the damn thing worked.

And I mean everyone, over a hundred in all. Stage hands, dancers, choreographers, musicians, composers, singers, light and projection designers, waterscreen creators and constructors, costume designers and makers, theatre staff, cameramen, vision editors, architects, builders, hairdressers, makeup artists, technicians, administrators... and I am absolutely certain that I left many out.

When the day after we produced the show marking Malta's entry into Europe in Grand Harbour a thought came to mind. I said to myself that there would never be another chance to have a go at something this big again. I remember sitting on an Upper Barrakka bench and gazing at this magnificent harbour of ours as the cleaners were clearing up the debris left by a 90,000-people strong crowd the night before. Yep, I confessed to myself, that was the challenge of my lifetime and it’s all downhill from here.

Well, I was only half right. Nothing in this business could ever replace the thrill of St Angelo on the night of EU entry. But the CHOGM spectacle comes in a very close second and in a sense provided one deeper satisfaction.

While the EU show was the brainchild of two foreigners, this one was pretty much a homegrown affair. Apart from Jonathan Park, who provided us with a disappointing display of unprofessionalism and had to be fired, the show was created in its entirety by Maltese men and women.

I have a pet theory on Maltese culture which invariably proves me right on occasions like these. For the most part, Maltese people prefer to talk rather than do, criticise rather than create, work for the family rather than for the community as well. Yet when we choose to, particularly when we are in competion with 'foreigners', we go ballistic in order to be the best.

Take a small typical Maltese town or village. For 51 weekends a year life is uneventful, dull and somnambulous. Yet for one weekend a year, at festa time, it creates an event which a European city inhabited by two million souls would not even dream of putting up. Unless, that is, they had a budget running into millions of euros.

Maltese culture is nothing but this phenomenon writ large. It is what makes this country occasionally wake up from its siesta and run with the best... and give them a run for their money.

Although I am the chairman of Welcomevents, the consortium which produced the CHOGM spectacle, this has truly been a collective effort, from beginning to end.

Let me start with the people around me. Without Anton Attard's eye for visuals, details and his wicked lateral thinking, the spectacle would not have got off the ground. It would have been even less possible without Silvio Scerri's broad shoulders on which I dumped an inhuman load.

Nigel Camilleri solved a raft of logistical problems with typical elegance and understatement. This time he also tried his hand at suggesting some of the projected visuals and he wasn’t at all bad at it ...err for a dentist.

On the creative side, it was once again a pleasure to work with a music composer of Philip Vella's calibre. He understood the spectacle's storyline immediately and turned it into 12 musical suites which formed the spectacle's spine. He was also gracious enough to allow me to play guitar on one of them. Well, it was more like after I begged on hands and knees. Ruben Zahra and Nafra put the ehnic cherry on top of Phillip's cake.

What does one say about Felix Busuttil? He is creative, resourceful, driven, a leader and vaguely mad. Who would have told me 35 years ago that the little boy who used to come to our house in Gozo every Saturday to organise singing festivals with my sisters would one day be doing something on this scale? Well I should have known. Apart from being the organiser Felix used to be one of the singing contestants and the only judge. And, surprisingly enough, he always came first. You have to love the guy.

Felix’s dancers are equally dedicated and talented. Their resilience and patience, particularly when it came to rehearsing on a watery suface for hours on end, was admirable.

Through this project I met Nick Critien for the first time. It was a pleasure and I am certain it will remain so. He is cut from the same gentlemanly cloth as his uncle, Fra John, the Knight Resident of Fort St Angelo. Nick was nothing short of a miracle pill for our biggest headache: the waterscreens.

When we dreamed up the crazy idea of creating rain in the middle of the Mediterranean Conference Centre we did not know what we were letting ourselves into. After a disasterous trip around Germany in search for the right waterscreens we ended up finding them in Nick’s garage (and brain) around the corner. Again, that's Malta for you.

A spectacle like this cannot gel without the cooperation of the theatre where it takes place. In Peter Fenech, the MCC chairman, we found a man who has great enthusiasm for problem-solving. This spectacle also benefitted greatly from the sane, good-natured and cool interventions of Alan Camilleri of the CHOGM Task Force

There are other aspects to the Maltese character apart from rising to the occasion. And many of them are not, shall we say, very helpful. We are argumentative, melodramatic, territorial, short-tempered. On any day, one or more of us displayed some of these traits with each other and with those we worked with. But problems were always solved and tempers calmed.

Then there were the humurous episodes. After a running battle with Peter Fenech and Rosette Micallef of MCC about the complementary tickets we were contractually bound to give them I receive a phonecall. “Hi it’s Rosette," said this woman. “I know you are going to kill me but can I have two complementary tickets?” Thinking that it was the same Rosette of MCC I sent her a quel paese as the Italians say, and at rather great length. About 10 minutes later I called MCC's Rosette to apologise. “What phone call? What tickets? I never asked you for two more.” Oh shit, there must be a very upset and confused Rosette out there.

On another occasion, the day after the Jonathan Park episode, Silvio Scerri called in a panic. “Lou, I am looking at a half-naked Jonathan Park chained to the railings in front of MCC. He is ranting about wanting to go into the hall at all costs and all the media are here taking pictures and footage.”

For about 10 minutes I was swimming in cold sweat. I saw six months of work going up in flames of bad headlines around the globe. Even

when Silvio called to say it was all a joke I could barely come to.

So, all in all, for all the late nights, problems and clashes this was a great experience. Finally, I would like to thank the Maltese people who have responded to our offer to show them the spectacle live with great enthusiasm. The two shows we planned are sold out and the extra matinee we added on Sunday (with Kledi’s performance) is also moving fast at the time of writing. Again, thanks to everyone.