Before the ceremony had even begun, the North Korean cheer squad were already marching to their own beat.
Around a hundred of them were chanting, cheering and waving flags incessantly to draw attention to themselves and their country.
"D-P-R-K … D-P-R-K," they sang.
The "army of beauties" made so much noise that photographers from around the stadium rushed to the area to capture the unusual, yet mesmerising scene.
The attention only egged on the North Koreans.
Soon Olympic staff were desperately clambering up the stairs trying to usher the gathering media away, conscious that the cheer squad was getting too much attention.
It was a fitting prelude to an event that had a confusing build-up.
The hype around a unified Korean team had almost been lost in the strange political games leading up to the event.
Military parades and defiant words had overshadowed the lead-up to Pyeongchang 2018.
When proceedings began US Vice-President Mike Pence and Japan's Shinzo Abe could be seen exchanging pleasantries, while North Korean leader Kim Jong-Un's sister sat meters away.
It was a strange scene, but I was getting used to that.
Marching to the beat
The Olympic torch is normally reserved for last on the dance card at these events, but in sub-zero temperatures I wondered (and hoped) that perhaps they'd light it earlier just to warm the place up.
Three layers of everything had not done the trick, and I was relying on ambient body heat from the Chinese and Russian media on either side of me.
I was also a little jealous of the volunteers, who had been given the role of dancing non-stop for the duration of the ceremony.
They might have looked silly, but at least they were warm.
The political games were cast aside when the athletes started to file in.
The Jamaicans came in with well-choreographed dance moves which elevated the mood and Scotty James waved the Aussie flag furiously.
When K-pop mega-hit Gangnam Style blared as the USA made its entrance, the party was truly getting started.
Tonga's dual Olympian Pita Taufatofua emerged oiled up and shirtless once more, just like in Rio.
I remain convinced the oil was some kind of heating agent. What he did out there was not humanly possible.
He marched calmly around the stadium, lapping up the attention and giving this Olympics its first 'viral' moment.
The next one wasn't far away.
An excited buzz whipped around the press corps as the unified Korean team assembled to enter the stadium.
This was a moment of a different kind.
A cheer erupted in the stands, but the clapping wasn't that loud. Thick gloves have a way of muffling sound.
It was a truly special occasion, as the fans embraced a team of athletes from both sides of the divided peninsula.
Given my fingers were unable to retain enough coordination to type, I was afforded the chance to sit back and appreciate it all.
While the focus on the athletes had been fun, it wasn't until South Korean President Moon Jae-in officially opened the games that attention in the stadium shifted.
Once his words were uttered, fireworks began instantly, and a feeling of jubilation quickly spread around the stadium.
Even the North Korean cheer squad traded their national flag for the unified Korean flag, and at least shared something with the fans around them.
Let the games begin
The focus was no longer on North and South Korea.
It was about the athletes and the strange and wonderful circumstances that had drawn competitors from more than 90 countries to this one very cold stadium to celebrate achievement, perseverance and talent.
When the torch arrived (finally, some heating in this place!), the mood shifted from a light-hearted celebration, to a deeper and more meaningful respect for the importance of the moment.
The party didn't stop, but it seemed suddenly to mean a lot more.
This wasn't just a party for the athletes, or even a celebration of sport.
It was a respect, however fleeting, of differences and similarities. It was a powerful symbol of unity.
Sometimes the Olympics transcends sport.
On this occasion, it transcended bitter hostilities, and offered a glimmer of hope in a region that sorely needs it.
For one night at least, while the politicians and officials made their own careful statements, the athletes got to make theirs.
It was a joint statement, that a world united is plainly a lot more fun.