It says a lot about the no-holds-barred François Delecour that even Colin McRae once described him as “probably the craziest guy I know” (Delecour’s long-time Peugeot team-mate Gilles Panizzi was described as the “second-craziest”).

And before Sébastien Loeb came along, Delecour was the brightest star in the French rallying firmament. François burst onto the international scene in 1991 by nearly winning on his WRC debut in a four-wheel-drive car, which was also his first appearance for Ford on the Monte Carlo Rally.

This relatively unknown 28-year-old with the intense look in his eyes had the temerity to take the lead from reigning world champion Carlos Sainz on the penultimate day and was on course for a history-writing victory until his Sierra Cosworth’s left-rear suspension failed on the final run through the Col de Turini, costing the Frenchman 6min.

That emotional roller-coaster firmly set the scene for the rest of his factory WRC career, which took in 12 seasons and several stints with Peugeot and Ford, as well as Mitsubishi for two years. He could – probably should – have been world champion in 1993, the season in which he claimed three of his four career WRC wins, but injuries from a road accident in a Ferrari F40 put him on the sidelines for four months. He still managed to finish second at the end of that year.

Delecour’s final WRC factory drive was a comeback on the 2012 Monte (after a 10-year break) where he signed off with a fine sixth place, but once the tyre screaming stops, what does a retired rally driver actually do? Particularly one as notoriously hyperactive as François Delecour.

Most people, for instance, travel to Corsica from mainland France by plane or ferry – but he chose to go by jet ski. François still describes that journey as one of the most painful experiences of his life, with his legs and back acting as human shock absorbers, but – as we’re about to find out – he’s a real sucker for punishment. Because François was generous enough to invite us to join him for a day at his home in the south of France (in the same village where Johnny Depp once lived with Vanessa Paradis, in the years before the Hollywood star’s marital arrangements became even more newsworthy).

“François cooks potatoes with the devotion of a Michelin- starred chef”

But this wouldn’t be a day of lazing by the pool and reminiscing. Delecour is still competing on four wheels and two. His latest adventure is a 470-mile mountain bike race across France, which he attacks with exactly the same passion as he displayed on the world’s stages. And it was time to go training.

Now aged 62, his fitness level is insane; almost certainly superior to the peak of his driving career – thanks to a regime that takes in nearly 60 miles of arduous cycling every day. The never-ending gravel tracks behind the family house high up in the mountains constitute his own personal playground. He’s even built a rally stage around the property, complete with a beaten-up former rallycross Renault Clio that has been driven by many of the sport’s absolute legends as they attempt – futilely – to beat his record. Every day is a bit like Top Gear in real life, only much fitter and faster. “That’s probably the most famous Renault Clio in history,” François jokes. “You should see some of the people who have driven it. And crashed it!”

As for Panizzi, there’s still a close connection between the former team-mates. Panizzi now manages 17-year-old Eliott Delecour, the latest generation of a rallying family that also includes Priscille de Belloy, François’s wife and Eliott’s mother.

“It’s a different way of life now,” adds François. “I’m still driving, cycling, doing a lot of things as always, but when it comes to rally, my son is the focus. If I wasn’t convinced of his talent, I wouldn’t be helping him.”

They are an incredibly close-knit family unit, along with Eliott’s older brother Mathys – also a driver – living out their shared passion in idyllic surroundings. They are also always ‘on’ (Eliott spends most of his spare time studying onboard videos). To give you an idea, even the family dog is called Taf – which stands for tout à fond, or flat out in English. Priscille is constantly on the phone, doing deals and marshalling the troops. Eliott is somehow trying to balance schoolwork with his burgeoning rally career. François is constitutionally incapable of sitting still.

“I can’t help it, this is just the way I am,” points out François. “I have to be doing something. All of us are the same. Even after I stopped driving, things didn’t get calmer.”

Lunch is the only pause in this blur of frenetic activity. Priscille manages to find time to make her own mayonnaise, while François cooks some potatoes with the devotion of a Michelin-starred chef. It’s one of the best flavour combinations you’ll ever taste. François knows a lot about vegetables. In fact, he even gave an interview on a rally in Romania where he talked mainly about carrots (look it up – Interviu Francois Delecour on YouTube if you don’t believe me). But his horticultural pièce de résistance is mushrooms.

The reaction and vision of rally drivers needs no description, with their seemingly miraculous ability to pick out precise braking points or changes of grip in the dead of night on icy mountain roads. But even that’s comparatively easy compared to the bandwidth needed to distinguish a morel mushroom, growing by the side of a distant river, while travelling at around 20mph on the adjacent road on a mountain bike.

“François is constitutionally incapable of sitting still: ‘I can’t help it…’”

Every day after lunch, François goes for his training ride – hard though it is to tear himself away from that delicious plate of tuna, potatoes and mayonnaise. We’re invited to follow as part of our day out with a difference, but in a buggy that’s actually a decent simulacrum of a World Rally Car, complete with switchable four-wheel drive, a banshee wail rev-limiter and proper six-point harnesses with a rollcage.

Earlier, François demonstrated its jaw-dropping capabilities on the gravel tracks. Now, it’s taking a lot of my (admittedly limited) capacity to keep up with him on the same paths. Except this time, he’s on a mountain bike, showing some serious pace.

Those tracks gradually become narrower and more rocky as they climb up the mountainside, offering incredible views over Saint-Tropez and Sainte-Maxime, the Côte d’Azur every bit as sparkling blue as its eponymous appellation.

Going down, the road charges through glistening water-splashes and magical woodland, before levelling out through lush vineyards and neat farmers’ fields.

It’s the south of France as you’ve never seen it before; a long way from the beaches, crowds and commercialism that mould the stereotype of the hectic French Riviera. It sounds glib, but this is the real France – of landscapes and produce and genuine people.

It’s easy to see what inspired the famous French painters who lived and worked in this area, such as Chagall and Matisse. Each corner reveals a beautiful canvas framed by untrammelled nature. “Everything is here,” points out François. “Why would you want to go anywhere else?”

Legs pumping metronomically, with speeds in excess of 30mph and elevation changes that can reach nearly 1000m, he nonetheless cycles resolutely onwards. Until suddenly, he stops. Braking hard in the two-wheel equivalent of a Scandinavian flick, in a hurry to scrub off as much speed as possible. “There!” he points, abandoning the bike and heading towards the riverside. “Look!”

If you stare hard, you eventually see a few clumps of morel mushrooms, true delicacies in the world of fungi, which normally grow by the side of a river, at the base of trees. Most of the natural world knows how tasty they are as well, which is why they have evolved to be so well-camouflaged.

How François spotted them from the saddle of his mountain bike is a mystery, but it says something about the pinpoint peripheral ability to read a road that all the great drivers – especially rally drivers – never lose.

“Those things would be worth a fortune if you ordered them in a restaurant in Paris,” he points out, gathering them up with the same boundless enthusiasm that characterises all his activities. “Perfect with spaghetti!”

And before you know it, he’s back on the bike and heading to the house before the increasingly threatening skies, which over the course of three hours have turned from cerulean blue to leaden grey, open up fully.

Not that François really cares. He’s on his bike even when temperatures exceed 40°C – a regular occurrence, given the number of water bowsers strategically placed to combat summer forest fires – or when monsoon-like downpours turn those gravel tracks into something that resembles a Safari Rally stage during rainy season.

A few months ago, François came off big-time in a remote area – the equivalent of a hard motorbike crash into rocks with no helmet. Ironically, he’d just wrapped a bandana around his handlebars, which came loose and worked its way into the front wheel. His face took the brunt of the impact.

François lay there dazed for a while, wearing a mask of blood, before eventually trying to get back on the bike. Rally drivers are cut from a different cloth. “It’s just what you do,” he grins. “Get back in the car…”

He’s lost count of how many cars he’s driven since his very first national event in 1981, but an easy way to make a rough estimate is to look at the staggering range of models displayed in the large cabinet that dominates his open-plan dining room – one for every car he has driven, more or less.

Some are proving elusive to find: his Autobianchi A112, for instance, while others are extensively represented, such as the Ford Escort RS Cosworth and Peugeot 206 WRC.

“My favourite is probably the Peugeot 306 Maxi,” he says. “It was such an exciting car to drive, which revved all the way to 11,000rpm. I drove it a lot in the French Championship, before I got to the WRC, and I’m driving it again on a rally in Guadeloupe soon.”

His other favourite car comes from the opposite end of his professional career – the Porsche 911 R-GT prepared by Richard Tuthill, which made its debut in 2014. “That sound!” remembers François, of the car in which he won the inaugural FIA R-GT Cup in 2015. “And this was why I loved the Maxi too. A rally car needs to have a proper sound.”

His least favourite was the Mitsubishi Lancer World Rally Car that effectively brought his full-time WRC career to a close at the end of 2002: “A big disappointment, as a lot was promised that never happened.”

“A favourite is the Peugeot 306 Maxi – such an exciting car to drive”

Yet perhaps the rally car closest to his heart right now is the Ford Escort: not the RS Cosworth that took him to the brink of a world title in 1993, but the much older Group 4 Mk2 version, which is parked in his garage as part of an eclectic collection that also takes in a Ford GT40 (in which he has contested historic Le Mans) as well as a 22hp Italian Fiat 500 – his wedding car with Priscille.

And many others, including a classic Porsche 3.2 that he has owned from new, plus a well-worn Subaru Impreza that’s used to hoon around in (again, just check out YouTube). “I just can’t help it,” he shrugs. “Driving is something that stays in the blood. It’s not really something I miss as I’m still doing it; and now I’m living it all over again with Eliott.”

Delecour Jr has also been rallying in the Group 4 Escort, winning the historic section of the Rallye Sainte-Baume last year on his debut in the car, co-driven by Priscille. This year, Eliott took his first overall victory on the Rallye des Roches Brunes, in an R5 Volkswagen Polo. Again, it was his first appearance in the car – although this time co-driven by Romain Roche, who also navigates for François on his occasional outings.

“Honestly, I believe that Eliott has so much more talent than I had at his age, so the satisfaction I have seeing him now is even more than it was when I was driving – you really can’t compare,” says François, as he painstakingly hoses down his muddy mountain bike at the entrance to his garage; the walls covered in posters and photos and memories.

He glances up at them as he places the bike in a rack alongside many others. And he smiles to himself. “In the end, you know, I didn’t win so much and I certainly lost a lot of opportunities. But do I have any regrets, or would I swap anything? Absolutely not.”

In life, in a car, on a bike: François is always flat-out towards the next horizon.