By Mike McRoberts, in London
Every day we catch the first high-speed Javelin train from St Pancras to Stratford Station at around 6am. We're invariably joined by an army of official Olympic volunteers in their pink and purple jackets.
More than a quarter-million people volunteered to help out at the Olympics, with around 70,000 selected.
Quite simply, the Olympics couldn't run without them. They have been that vital link between the games and the hundreds of thousands turning up to Olympic venues each day.
Polite, pleasant, friendly – whatever the selection process was, they got it just right. Having been to the UK a number of times, I've never known London to be so user-friendly.
One morning this week, I happened to be sitting next one of the volunteers, Katie Preston of Islington. A former teacher, she now works for the council helping kids with disabilities.
She had to take annual leave in order to volunteer, which means an eight-hour shift every second day starting at 6am, and no pay.
It wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea and she laughed when she was giving me the details of some of the work she's been doing, claiming she must be mad.
She's also volunteered to help out at the Paralympics starting in a week.
She says it's been the experience of a lifetime. She's worked alongside other volunteers and says they come from all walks of life – from students to professionals, even a former MP.
They never know from day-to-day what it is they'll be required to do. Once they arrive at Olympic park they're randomly assigned their day’s work.
Katie's been lucky enough to have been inside the main Olympic stadium, helping fans find their seats and says she's even been able to catch a glimpse of a few events including the men’s sprints.
Her worst job came this week on Wednesday, the official "Family Day" at the park, when she was on push-chair check-in duty. She says she's never seen so many push-chairs in all her life.
But like the many volunteers I've met or encountered, she completed her task with a smile and a great deal of tolerance. I reckon the volunteers have been wonderful ambassadors at these games.
And for the most part they've been much appreciated.
I say "most part" because after a particularly late and tiring day at the Olympic Park, I was amongst the throng pouring off the Javelin train and into St Pancras Station. Everyone seemed tired and desperate to get home.
Just as we got to the bottom of the escalator, one of the pink and purple-clad volunteers rallied on his megaphone "give us a cheer if you've had a great day then!", to which one grumpy old locals next to me yelled out "get f**d".
Now that's more like the London I know.