Perhaps I missed something somewhere ...

The OLMA closes today after eleven days.
No, not the Ontario Lumber Manufacturers' Association, but the Swiss exhibition of agriculture and nutrition in Sankt Gallen.
It would seem to be obligatory for anyone who lives in the area.

I wanted to visit the exhibition last year, but my logic wasn't functioning.
If visitors to the exhibition don't get home until three a.m. I presumed there was no point in getting there early.
I turned up at nine p.m. The doors were closed. Well, they would be, of course.

This year some friends took my hand and promised to show me what it was all about and why most visitors don't just go once a year, but once a day for the whole eleven days.
'You have to be there early to find room' they told me.
We got there at two - p.m. that is.
We rushed past Sewing Machines, Washing Machines, Ironing Machines, Coffee Machines and Snow Ploughs.
No-one really took any interest in them. Too nutritious? Too agricultural?

Oh look!
Hall 9 is devoted to cheese!
And the hall next to it is devoted to livestock.
But who wants to stand around looking at cows until three-in-the-morning?
We sampled some cheese and washed it down with a beer and then rushed along to find our places in Hall 4, before they were taken.

Halls 4 and 5 are devoted to nutrition - in fluid form.
Mounting the stairs to Hall 4 is a feat in itself. The stairs are packed and the noise from above is deafening.
Hieronymus Bosch never imagined anything like the scene that greeted us - even in his wildest nightmares.

People were standing shoulder to shoulder and nose to nose.
If someone moved to let you pass, you could observe how 200 and more people swayed with them.
And, apparently, it wasn't even near full yet.
We somehow reached our 'destination'. It looked pretty much the same as everywhere else to me. I took my position between the bodies and through some miracle, a beer found its way into my hand.
Trying to work out how to get the beer to my mouth, I watched the crowd and noticed that through mutual consent, it was my turn to drink. The people around me swayed away from me just long enough for me raise my glass and take a sip, then it was someone elses' turn.
Don't try to drink while your neighbour is drinking - one of you is bound to loose some teeth.

After drinking my beer, I decided it might be time for me to leave. In the meantime, however, I was packed in so tightly, it was impossible to move. I never learned to use my elbows and 'excuse me' just didn't work!
Another beer somehow found its way into my hand and I resigned to my fate.
After four beers, I was relieved to hear a loudspeaker announce:
'The OLMA is closing, would you please carefully drink whatever it is you are holding and make your way to the exit.'

We all shuffled toward The Exit and the scene from within, was repeated in the street behind the exhibition halls and in the surrounding pubs.

Perhaps I am anti-social, but it didn't take long for me to abandon my friends, wedged there in the crowds and to make my way to the station.
Perhaps it is my being British, but my idea of fun and socialising is somehow different.
Perhaps I missed something.