FOLLOW THE LEADER

WE’RE AIRBORNE. A FAMILIAR WEIGHTLESS serenity has pervaded the cockpit. Earth’s surly bonds have been slipped.

We’re still airborne.

In fact we’re airborne for so long that I half expect hear the bing bong of a tannoy interrupt the semisilence: ‘Welcome to Citroën Airways. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened as we prepare for landing. Doors to manual and cross check.’

Then ground meets tyres. Springs and spines compress. The cacophony recommences. Left foot hits brake pedal. The car darts into a left-hander, which then tightens into a hairpin. An almost lazy pull on the big handbrake. Calm again for a moment as the car rotates with the rear wheels frozen… then an anti-lag-primed punch of acceleration slams the C4 WRC forward.

That was 13 years ago, in France. I was a passenger in the codriver’s seat, watching none other than Sébastien Loeb do his thing. The swift, sure inputs. The astonishing speed carried in corners. The experience of a lifetime.

And now I’m standing at Monet’s easel. The paints and brushes are at my disposal…

This particular C4 is from 2008, the year I rode with Loeb, but it’s not the same car. That was a test car, whereas this is chassis 14, which won no fewer than four rallies with Loeb and Daniel