As the time ticked past 10.30am, Bristol city centre was eerily quiet. It began to seem as if the launch of the £500-million Cabot Circus would be embarrassingly low-key.

Then the people came. As more, and yet more, people surged along Broadmead and into Cabot Circus alongside a procession of drummers, dancers and acrobats, the damp, grey autumn morning was transformed.

And so was the heart of Bristol.

Gone were the clouds of grey dust that had filled the area for weeks. Gone were the scaffolding, the heavy machinery and the builders.

Instead, there were colourful flags, pulsating percussion and whoops and cheers as performers made their way past the crowds for the grand opening.

It was an almost carnival atmosphere. But then, for Bristolians, this was always about much more than the opening of a new shopping development.

Yesterday was a celebration of the renaissance of Bristol city centre.

It was a new beginning for a place devastated by German wartime bombers, let down by post-war planners, and – in more recent times – inundated by street drinkers and beggars.

Yesterday, the throngs of people who converged upon Cabot Circus and Quakers Friars were the sort of ordinary people who the developers of Cabot Circus – the Bristol Alliance – had always said would come to the 120 shops, plus restaurants and cafes.

Many had not simply come to shop, or even to see the spectacular procession and aerial performances of the launch ceremony.

They had also come to see history being made. One day, they will be able to tell their children and grandchildren that they were there when Cabot Circus opened.

And what memories they should have of that moment, when people poured into Cabot Circus, and crowded on to balconies, staircases and anywhere that afforded a good view of the opening ceremony on high wires beneath the spectacular curved glass roof.

I ended up balancing precariously upon a black marble cube alongside Phyllis Whisker, who had come to Cabot Circus from her home nearby in St Paul's.

"I'm supposed to be swimming today but I decided that this was something I couldn't possibly miss," she told me as she clutched a nearby pillar for support.

"I have never seen so many people in all my life."

Mrs Whisker moved to Bristol from Jamaica some 50 years ago.

"I've seen good times and bad times since I came to Bristol – and this has got to be one of the best times," she said.

"It's so beautiful, just beautiful. It's going to make a real difference to Bristol. Round where I live they have been dropping leaflets through people's doors about jobs in Cabot Circus."

After the opening ceremony, people began exploring, marvelling at the vast, modern shopping complex and the three new streets.

For Cabot Circus is not some identikit, clone-town shopping mall, but a feat of engineering and imagination.

And of course, the name of the shopping centre that lent itself to the theme of the launch was decided upon by Bristolians after the original name chosen by the developers – Merchants' Quarter – proved unpopular because of perceived references to the slave trade.

Just as the Bristol Alliance developers had always promised, the builders left on time for the opening – even though only 24 hours earlier Cabot Circus had been dominated by men in bright yellow high-visibility jackets and heavy machinery.

Yesterday, the builders seemed to have disappeared – as if by magic – vanishing in a puff of smoke (or maybe dust) and Cabot Circus was finally being used by shoppers.

It was a day when everything seemed to go right. Even the weather was perfect, after weeks of heavy rain.

The damp, grey morning faded away and in Quakers Friars the pale stone buildings glowed in autumn sunshine and water from the fountains sparkled as it soared into the air.

There was an almost continental atmosphere, with tables outside the restaurants Piccolini and Brasserie Blanc. It was hard to believe that Poundstretcher and Argos used to be on the corner where Harvey Nichols is now.

It felt as if the centre of Bristol had been returned to what it used to be until it was destroyed in World War II – a vibrant, lively city centre where people gathered to shop and meet friends.

By remarkable co-incidence, yesterday was the anniversary of a German bombing raid on September 25, 1940, in which Patchway and Filton were hit, along with the Bristol Aeroplane Company. Nowadays, the greatest threat to Bristol's new city centre appears to come from the credit crunch – and from a small minority who appear to have a perverse desire to see Cabot Circus fail.

They should have been there yesterday and seen have how their doom-laden cynicism would have made little impression upon Phyllis and the thousands of others like her who made a special journey into Bristol city centre because they wanted to be part of something special.

So is this show one that will run and run? Could Cabot Circus even help Bristol to become one of the UK's leading retail destinations?

At a time when there is so much talk about a credit crunch and possible recession, the future seems increasingly impossible to predict.

But yesterday, when the circus came to town and the people of Bristol became the stars of a memorable moment in history, anything seemed possible.