My husband and I decided to check out the annual garlic festival in Gilroy because we like garlic and bands. We didn’t look into it in much detail in advance. Entering crawling traffic two miles from the parking lot clued us in: This festival is Huge.

The arrival portion was very well planned. Hordes of labeled Transportation Volunteers directed each car into the next spot in about 20 seconds. Signs directed pedestrians to Disney-style queues from which the volunteers sorted us into one of three sub-queues, each a bus stop. A continuous supply of comfortable, air conditioned buses carefully filled to capacity, with strollers stored in the cargo compartment, ferried us to the event on dedicated routes, while we watched a video of the attractions. The lines were short for admission tickets and parking vouchers, which served as our return bus tickets.

Jumping to the end, the departure was also well-organized, although quite oversubscribed. The line to board outgoing buses was simply stunning. To their credit, the volunteers walked the line apologizing, offering us cups of water, and pre-scanning our vouchers. The same setup of twisting queues and multiple boarding areas served the return, with the buses’ TV screens silent.

I really admired the planning of the transportation aspect, and I am lingering on it because I love good planning. The festival itself was a bit of a free-for-all, with confusing maps, conflicting directions from volunteers, and really, really long lines for everything. Garlic ice cream was free, but we never got any since the line was a quarter-mile long, seriously. All day. It seemed as if professionals were in charge of people-moving to-and-from, with amateurs devising the interior logistics.

Of course we went for garlic, and garlic there was: every kind of garlic food from sausage to ice cream for sale, with demonstrations of preparation as well as cooking competitions. The bands were talented but not really to our taste, being mostly 70s rock cover bands. There were many more vendors than we expected, high-quality ones, and we did end up buying some things. Most people seemed to be there for the copious opportunities to engage in day-drinking, including three beer gardens, numerous wine booths, and whiskey tasting. It was 81 degrees with little shade, so we abstained.

We did enjoy the rain rooms, twenty-foot-square open areas covered by a tarp ceiling lined with mist-dispensers.

Two sets of people were observed cutting into the very long line for the return bus, and our line neighbors started speculating about their karma payback, with comments like, They will have a flat tire on the way home, but I could not agree. Money-grubbing times have made me cynical. I believe the line-cutters will gain personal and financial success from their willingness to put themselves ahead of others. Even so, I really do not want to be like them; I know I would be unhappy if I did that, and brood on it, and feel odd.