| Feature Drive | Le Mans, France | Ford Escort Cosworth and Focus RS500 |

Nothing could quite prepare me for the huge clash of cultures that I was about to experience. I had just arrived outside the Ford Heritage Centre amidst the company's huge industrial base in Dagenham and I was about to head across the Channel to hot-foot it down to the bi-annual Le Mans Classic event. The overwhelming essence of Essex and the impending arrival at France's motorsport Mecca were two very different, but equally welcome, sensations.

Transport was to be an immaculate, maroon 1994 Escort Cosworth with a mere 38,000 miles on the clock, the stuff of boyhood dreams for many petrolheads of my age - and older. But it wasn't alone. I was following the Escort's bona fide successor (a matt black Focus RS500) out of Dagenham's big blue gates towards Dover. This was going to be good.

I'd lived with the Cossie for a couple of days prior to the event, so I had just about got used to the attention it commanded. The immensely broad wheelarches and the ludicrous rear spoiler turn as many - if not more - heads than a Ferrari would. But where many tut and roll their eyes at supercars, the Escort enjoys a kind of mutual respect on the road. For example, a passing biker saluted me while I was driving into my village the night before the trip. Try getting that response in a 599.

It's pretty innocuous inside, though. Apart from subtle details like the white dials, Recaros, a turbo boost gauge and the Motorsport plaque on the dash, there's little to separate the cabin from that of a standard Escort. Put your foot down and you'll certainly notice the difference. The 2.0-litre turbocharged four-cylinder engine takes a while to get going - the weighty four-wheel drive system and old-school turbo lag hinder things - but after about 3,000rpm the Cosworth takes off. It's beautifully balanced and very communicative, while the brakes are incredibly sharp and in excellent condition after 16 years.

At Dover, we trundled up to the waiting area for the train and encountered an orange Focus ST. Almost dutifully, we parked next to it, much to the delight of the owner, before very carefully boarding the Eurostar in what were easily the widest cars on the train.

One swift crossing later and we were enjoying the open, uncongested freedom of French motorways. Unlike the modern Le Mans, when the main routes down to the circuit are littered with Gendarmes, the Classic seems blissfully devoid of Gallic plod.

It was here that the generation gap between the two Fords became most apparent. The Escort is no slouch, but with 227bhp next to the 345bhp of the Focus, the older car was totally outclassed. We stretched their legs on numerous occasions to speeds of 120mph and beyond and while the RS500 was there in the blink of an eye with next to no effort, the Cosworth required a thorough pasting to keep up - but that's part of the appeal.

We arrived at our hotel in Le Mans town centre on Friday evening, and left the insect-spattered Fords ticking vehemently as they gradually cooled down in the near 40-degree heat (which lasted all weekend). After a short shuttle bus trip to the circuit, we began to drink in the atmosphere of opening night at La Sarthe.

The wonderful thing about Le Mans is that it lacks the clinical pretentiousness that so often goes hand-in-hand with motor racing. You won't see immaculately dressed yuppies gabbling into a mobile phone trying to bag the next deal like you would at a grand prix. Instead, you'll find happy, if slightly worse for wear, lads - usually Brits - beer in hand, chasing after the nearest Porsche 917 that's just thundered down the paddock.

The circuit is a big deal for Ford too, not least because of its four consecutive wins there with the GT40 from 1966 to 1969. The Blue Oval even entered a car in the very first Le Mans 24 Hour race in 1923 - a Model T Montier. Named after its driver, Charles Montier, this car appropriately made its second post-restoration appearance at the Le Mans Classic this year.

To celebrate, the company had packed out its area of the paddock with a small fleet of European spec Focus RS500s for some 'hot laps' in between practice and qualifying sessions. Thrilling as it was to tackle the circuit, I'm not a racing driver, so I took things relatively gingerly. That didn't stop me from giving it full beans on the Mulsanne Straight and, though I wasn't looking at the speedo, my passenger reliably informed me that we nudged 140mph.

Not that it felt like it. The Focus is planted and comfortable at speed and 339lb.ft of torque means that it gets to where it's going with immense pace - 0-62mph is taken care of in 5.6 seconds, 0-100 in 12.2 and you're looking at 165mph flat out.

Mid-Sunday afternoon I found myself trundling out of the bustling circuit grounds, this time in the Focus that I followed down. The big, black Ford proved itself equally competent on les Autoroutes, as we headed for Rouen and then Calais. I loved the Escort and I always claim that old cars are more fun than modern ones, but I'll admit that the satnav, better soundproofing and more efficient air conditioning of the RS500 were very welcome on the 400-mile journey home. I would never tire of the five-cylinder engine's stirring, bass-like tune, either.

A return visit to Dagenham, this time in the dark, rounded off our epic journey. After unloading the boots and saying our goodbyes we headed towards our respective cars for the final trip home. I certainly had the sweeter end of the deal, as I was still clutching the keys to the Focus. The downside is that all 101 UK-bound RS500s sold out within a week. I think a bank job, followed by some careful observation of the used Ford forecourts is in order...