From little acorn s...

The feisty Visa Trophée was an unlikely Group B rallying candidate, and a stepping stone towards Citroën's WRC supremacy

- RICHARD HESELTINE

It would appear that pleasure and discomfort can coexist. Having threaded your way past the rollcage, fallen into the race seat and wrestled the harness into submission, it's time to fire up. It's steamily hot in here, your forehead beading with sweat as you pump the throttle and turn the key. And nothing. And again. And nothing. Finally, reluctantly, the very first car ever homologated for Group B rallying coughs into life. It's loud, naturally, and each flex of the accelerator ushers in more fanfare. It sounds startlingly exuberant, if only to the onlookers who had stopped to take in the scenic vistas of the Iberian Peninsula but now have their backs to them. Smile for the cameras.

Righty-ho, slot the lever into gear. Okay, try again because it's a mite gristly... And we're in. Ease off the clutch, give it some gas and off we go, off-piste, kicking up dust between the trees. There's some residual compliance in the suspension - but then it is a Citroën, with all that entails. Even so, it's getting busy in here, but boy is it fun. The Visa Trophée is communicative beyond merely being vocal, although 'fidgety' is perhaps closer to the truth. What is conspicuously absent is the sort of speed normally associated with Group B. In the mind's eye, this was the knife-fight-rules era of rallying, the mere mention of it conjuring images of bestial, mid-engined monsters teetering on the brink of oblivion.