Feeling Charitable

I'm normally deeply troubled by the way charitable organistions conduct their affairs. I've had bad feelings in the past about the RSPCA, National Trust, World Wildlife Fund, English Heritage and any organisation which resorts to "tabard" salesmen/women outside Holborn tube station (sorry Macmillan Cancer - that includes you).
My cousin Tim's bike ride (London to Paris for the Royal British Legion - see previous posting) made me totally forgive the Poppy people for all earlier grumbles (why do poppies have to go on sale - and be worn - about three months before Remembrance Sunday?). Here were 200 mostly middle aged or better people pedalling for pleasure and raising a great heap of money. Madame Moutarde and I met Tim at his afternoon stop-off/refreshment point about three quarters of the way from Calais to Abbeville (his destination for the night) which happened to be within walking distance of our house in the Authie valley.
The skilful and thorough way the event was organised was quite inspiring: a dozen or so French motor cycle outriders clearing the way for the cyclists so that they never had to slow or stop, even for red lights; volunteers in smart people-carriers bringing sensible food, drink and medical supplies; cycle repair and maintenance vans bringing up the rear (one cyclist told me that they took scarcely more than 30 seconds to change a damaged wheel). Massage tables were set up at the stop-off, and volunteers even removed all litter afterwards.
I suppose that I wasn't surprised to learn that the event organiser is a Frenchman.