Route Nationale 373 running from Troyes to Château-Thierry, east of Paris, is a little used D-road flanked by autoroutes that render it largely clear of heavy traffic. This perfect French road is long and straight, undulating over gentle rural hills. Visibility is good and the tree-lined ribbon of tarmac spearing north towards Calais is fast and open in true trans-continental style.

With the rev counter hovering at just on 3000rpm, we are steaming along at near 80mph in a Speed Six Bentley. The car feels as lusty as a locomotive, the big six-litre, straight six totally relaxed and right in the 'sweet spot'. What makes this whole experience sublime is the fact that this Bentley goes like a train.

Back in 1930 Captain Woolf Barnato wagered £200 he could beat Le Train Bleu from Cannes to London in his Bentley. Seventy-five years on history is repeated as Bentley itself re-enacts this epic dash is 76 years old and has been hauling along at this pace for over 200 miles, with the relaxed insouciance worthy of a much younger machine. But then this is the famous Blue Train Bentley, the very car that raced Le Train Bleu from Cannes to London in 1930, when it was driven by Bentley Boy and chairman of Bentley Motors, Captain Woolf Barnato.

To celebrate the 75th anniversary of the legendary Blue Train race, Bentley Motors decided to re-enact the run. A few fortunate individuals met at the Carlton Intercontinental Hotel on the beach front in Cannes and the proceedings began with a powerful Barnato cocktail, consisting of Orange Curaçao, Angostura Bitters, Dark Rum and Champagne. Naturally the cocktails were served in the Woolf Barnato suite, as this was the hotel where the race originated. A slap-up supper followed at Restaurant Felix next door and then a nightcap in the Carlton bar. This 'Bentley Boy' lark is great fun.

In 1930, during a dinner party on board a yacht moored near Cannes, Woolf Barnato was holding forth about his great racing exploits. Heir to an extraordinary fortune made from the Kimberley diamond mines in South Africa, Woolf Barnato was the epitome of a Bentley Boy. He was a swashbuckling sportsman and bon vivant who led the Surrey cricket team, rode to hounds and remains the only racing driver whose three out of three starts-to-wins ratio at Le Mans has never been beaten. In addition he had been chairman of Bentley Motors since 1926 with an enviable collection of WO's finest at his beck and call.

Barnato was an integral part of the fast set, renowned for its love of life and exuberant pursuits. Champagne, fast cars, great parties and exotic, glamorous women were enjoyed by men such as aviator Glen Kidston, Sir Henry 'Tim' Birkin, steeplechase rider George Duller, 'Sammy' Davis and Australian-born dentist Dr Dudley Benjafield.

Despite all its attractions the energetic Barnato was becoming bored with the easy life in France. Fortunate then that over dinner a guest began questioning whether it was possible to beat the famously rapid Blue Train by road from St Raphael to Calais. Realising this could be an effective demonstration of the power and reliability of Bentley cars, Barnato wagered £200 that he could not only arrive in Calais before the train, but he would be at his London club before the train pulled into the French port.

The wager was accepted and the next day at 5.45pm, as Le Train Bleu left the main railway station at Cannes, Barnato and his relief-driver, amateur golfer Dale Bourne, set off in the Bentley Speed Six.

Being an experienced gambler and canny operator Barnato knew that the train had to stop in Marseille, which would give him a lead. He also wired ahead and arranged for fuel stops to be ready and waiting en route, so he could execute fast and efficient Le Mans-style fuel stops. As the train raced across the countryside Barnato and Bourne did battle with the French Routes Nationales, which in 1930 bore no resemblance to today's smooth, high-speed autoroutes.

But Barnato did not have it all his own way. During the 185 miles from Cannes to Lyon, the men endured heavy rain which slowed them considerably. At about 4am near Auxerre the team lost time searching for the refuelling rendezvous. Then they encountered thick fog near Paris, followed by a tyre blowout, forcing Barnato to use his only spare.

Some 570 miles later at 10.30am the Bentley reached Calais and boarded a small packet steamer. Arriving at Dover they made the final 80-mile dash to London. After driving almost 700 miles, it was 3.20pm when Barnato parked the dusty Speed Six outside the Conservative Club in London's St James', just four minutes before Le Train Bleu arrived at the station in Calais. The bet was won!

The French Motor Manufacturers' Association attempted to fine Bentley Motors the equivalent of £160 for racing on public roads, but Barnato countered that he had been racing as a private individual and not as chairman of Bentley. All the hoo-ha and publicity was just what he wanted. More recently artist Terence Cuneo depicted the fabulously rakish two-door coupé-bodied Gurney Nutting Bentley duelling with Le Train Bleu and so a Bentley legend was cemented.

But things are seldom as they seem, especially over a 75-year period. In 1997 Seattle-based cellular telephone magnate and car collector Bruce McCaw acquired the gorgeous Gurney Nutting Blue Train Bentley to add to his important collection of automobiles. The car won many a concours and is regarded as one of the most special Bentleys ever, particularly as it is thought to have been Barnato's personal car. But recently Bentley historian Michael Hay uncovered evidence that McCaw's Bentley was not actually completed until after the date of the race in March 1930. It seems that Barnato probably raced the Blue Train in his rather plainer Mulliner-bodied four-door Speed Six and not the racier-looking coupé.

Being a Bentley enthusiast and a man of considerable means, McCaw decided the only thing he could do was trace the Mulliner-bodied Bentley too. He eventually discovered the chassis with its engine, but the bodywork fitted to another chassis, and had Richard Moss of RC Moss Ltd reunite all three components. The fully restored Mulliner Speed Six was then shown, alongside the Gurney Nutting Speed Six, at the Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance in August 2003. Bruce McCaw now has the Blue Train Bentley and the Not The Blue Train Bentley in his collection. A flourish that Captain Woolf Barnato would have undoubtedly found amusing.

Seventy-five years later a posse consisting of the two vintage Blue Train cars, along with the Bentley Motors 41/2-litre 'Blower' and three modern Bentley Arnages, motors from the Carlton Hotel into the hills north of Grasse. The plan is to follow Barnato's exact route but split the journey over two days, making it a rather more comfortable expedition.

The roads are twisting and tight and must have been a real challenge at night in 1930 when they were nothing more than loose dirt. To start with I am in the back of the open Blower, enjoying the sight of the Mulliner and Gurney Nutting close behind.

Moustachioed Bentley man Richard Charlesworth is at the wheel and doing a superb job swapping gears in the non-synchro 'box and twirling the Blower up through the mountains with gusto. The weather is cold and wet and I understand why Barnato elected to conduct his race in a closed car.

The first stop is at Sisteron, a gateway to the Alps and a regular stop for the Monte Carlo Rally. Scotch and Pastis are on offer, but we sensibly stick to the apple juice and snacks. After being frozen in the Blower I have the opportunity to drive in the Gurney Nutting with Dr Ulrich Eichhorn, member of the Board for Engineering at Bentley. The car is a quintessential road-racer of the 1930s. Its Speed Six engine and chassis are pure Le Mans Bentley. The coachwork seems coiled for action: chopped and channelled, with a narrow and pared girth, dominant radiator, long bonnet with vents everywhere and rakishly cut-down fabric bodywork ending abruptly with a substantial rear-mounted trunk. The Gurney Nutting announces one thing: speed.

Eichhorn is a true Bentley devotee and has a classic S2 of his own. He clearly relishes the challenge of driving this sporting Speed Six hard. The Gurney Nutting's cockpit is totally functional. The windows are low and the cabin is tight. The dashboard is covered with an array of huge Jaeger instruments and gauges and there is just one small seat in the rear, mounted side-saddle. The engine starts with a lazy spin and the large exhaust emits a deep boom; Eichhorn selects first gear and the long-legged Bentley moves off on a veritable Table Mountain of torque. Gears change with a light graunch if the timing is about right, and a loud gnash if not. But my driver knows what he is doing and soon we are storming along at 80mph.

The speedo and rev counter are both chronometric so they buzz away frenetically, accompanied by the whine of the gearbox. Given a smooth surface the car rides surprisingly well on its 7x21-inch tyres, but it can become a bit harsh over transverse ridges and rough surfaces, probably due to the overly firm dampers. The lusty great engine is consistently content and will eagerly push this car to over 90mph with little provocation. The Gurney Nutting is restful but eager, sharp but refined. It's a bit like bowling along in a huge Chippendale cabinet at ludicrous speed.

We overnight at the magnificent Château de Chailly, west of Dijon, and start the evening with a wine tasting in the caves. Being in the heart of Burgundy we are treated to some first-rate growths, including a 1995 Charmes Chambertin Grand Cru, a '95 Auxey Duresses Grand Vin Bourgogne and '99 Meursault Blagny. As our host explains, Pinot Noir is a capricious wine and grows best in Burgundy. I have to agree with him.

After supper, Ulrich Eichhorn gives a moving speech about how he had a model of the Gurney Nutting Bentley as a boy and how it has always been his favourite car. As the man now in charge of Bentley engineering, you can rest assured that this Anglophile will continue to imbue future models with the unique characteristics that have made Bentleys so special for the last 85 years.

Naturally I am keen to sample the new Blue Train Series Arnage the next morning. The large, Mulliner bespoke Arnage has real presence and is subtly distinguished by its 19-inch seven-spoke alloy wheels, chrome radiator shell with slatted vents, and extra air vents behind the trailing edge of the front wheelarches below the unique Blue Train badging. This Blue Train Bentley carries the black winged 'B', a distinguishing mark of the most powerful Crewe models.

The 450bhp engine proves to be creamily smooth and emits a lovely V8 woofle from its quadruple exhaust tailpipes. The 6.75-litre motor features twin turbochargers, producing an astonishing 645lb ft of torque. One of its most endearing features is the rev counter, on which the red paint is applied at just 4500rpm. The Arnage belies its ample size and formal mien, going from 0-60mph in 5.5 seconds and on to 168mph. On the French Routes Nationales the Arnage is indecently fast but pliant and cosseting and responsive enough to really hustle along. And it never appears to be trying at all hard.

Selecting Sports mode, the gearbox sharpens its act and the suspension firms-up to evoke more performance and greater roadholding. All the while this sports car level of performance is enjoyed within one of the most opulent and beautifully appointed interiors. Mulliner's meticulous craftsmanship is evident in the veneer waistrails, the elegant dashboard and the heavily hewn fixtures and fittings. The leather-covered armchairs are supremely comfortable and the journey is akin to travelling in a private jet without any of the noise.

I leave the enigmatic Mulliner Blue Train Bentley to last. On the final 100-mile run down into Calais, with Bentley man Frank Meakin behind the wheel, I elect to sit in the back of the four-door and enjoy the scenery whizzing by. The green leather seat is tremendously comfortable and the legroom can only be described as luxurious. The door tops are capped in beautifully crossbanded veneer in Art Deco style. Being upright and Edwardian, the view out along the bonnet is panoramic and the Mulliner powers along at 80mph, keenly keeping pace with the more sporting-looking Gurney Nutting. The car feels wonderfully tight and well built, and the ride is serene. The fabric Weymann coachwork is quiet, with no squeaks or rattles, and although it looks stately it is very light, possibly lighter than the cut-down Gurney Nutting.

Boarding the vintage-feeling ferry I am acutely aware of the sense of occasion and the importance of what I have just been privileged to experience. The Mulliner is the car that Captain Woolf Barnato actually drove as fast as he could in an incredible overnight dash from Cannes to Calais and on to London, at an average speed of 43.43mph. And all this 75 years ago. On the fast roads through France and the traffic-snarled entry into London, the Mulliner powers on gamely without missing a beat after 700 miles.

As I enjoy a final drink upstairs in Morton's Club, looking out over Berkeley Square from the balcony, I can see the two Blue Train Bentleys parked below, romantically illuminated by the street lamps. But the one that tugs at my heartstrings is the rather plain-Jane Mulliner and not her more attractive Gurney Nutting sister.