It's not a fashionable thing, to report good news.
As a reporter the focus is all too often on unearthing the "sexier" headline and go straight for the jugular. And let's face it, Sochi has had plenty of bad press.
"Tradition is the living faith of the dead" as theologian Jan Pelikan once said and I'm in romantic mood, and not only because Valentine's Day is just around the corner.
So here's a thought for you – Sochi is proving more charming than anticipated.
The scenery is awe-inspiring, the climate is a winter tonic to a rain-sodden, Englishman's bones and the sporting adventure is a daily marvel.
It all goes to raise the pulse and underline the privilege that employment, in telling sport stories, can afford.
But there is another factor which has proved greater to all the above in creating that intangible sense of celebration, goodwill and friendship that is at the heart of all Olympic Games' ambition. And that factor is the volunteers.
Since arriving in Sochi, I must have spoken to well over a hundred of these unpaid Games helpers.
Their number is legion and they are so numerous it's hard to walk 10 yards on a freezing mountain road or a sunny coastal pathway without bumping into a pair of them.
Which is lucky, because I've I often found myself lost, or in the wrong place, or unable to comprehend simple signs like "Enter cable car here."
Without fail, each rainbow-jacketed volunteer I have approached for help to find a way through my befuddlement has been enthusiastic and friendly to the point of disbelief.
The effect is powerful.
Your heart maybe of stone, your body devoid of any empathetic sinew yet still the vibe of goodwill and greeting emanating from this bunch would breach your defences quicker than a bobsleigh boosted by an afterburner.
Most of the volunteers I have spoken to are students who, keen to brush up and expand their language skills, rushed to take part in a piece of their country's history by enrolling through their university.
They've travelled from St. Petersburg in the west to Magaden in the east, from the capital Moscow in the north to the countryside of the steppes. Some have even come from overseas.
All to stand here, often in the freezing cold, to cheer up any soul who is becoming stressed, unhappy or disillusioned by what can be the overwhelming experience of an Olympic Games.
Everyone knows Russia, like any other country, is a land that is far from perfect.
Everyone knows the political backdrop and right-minded concerns that many critics have leveled at Vladimir Putin's government in the buildup to Sochi.
But politics aside, the volunteers show a glimpse of a new generation.
They seem keen to learn, keen to meet people from nations far and wide, and they seem excited about a project which to young eyes must be exciting in its positivity and scale.
Sochi is putting Russia on the map like never before and the young Russians I have met seem buoyant because of it.
Of course, when the Games are over reality will no doubt bite once again and the challenges of trying to start a career and make a way in the world will return to the front of their minds.
But, as Britain knows from London 2012, even a brief romance can work wonders for a grizzled, old soul. So, from Russia, with love...