Max Wooldridge joins an eccentric group of Michael Caine wannabes on a rally that follows in the tyre tracks of the cult movie 'The Italian Job.'

Here we go then. We're off. I'm in one of 110 minis lined up at Calais. Ahead of us are 3000 gruelling miles through France to Italy. This is "The Italian Job", a charity re-enactment of the famous journey taken by Michael Caine and his so called 'jobbers' in the 1969 film of the same name. The real stars of the film were the Mini Coopers, which the jobbers drove on that ultimate bank heist. Among today's Mini devotees is Tara Collinson, who is the son of the film's director Peter. "It's a design icon", says Tara, "if you want to look at pure design, it's a miracle for it's age. So many elements of it, like the front transversed engine for example were so radical for their time and still are today."

Some minis on the rally were even covered with quotes from the film. Stuff like. "I hope he likes spaghetti" and of course the immortal line, "you're only supposed to blow the bloody doors off". As we drove through France, elderly women smiled and waved, old men applauded and schoolchildren cheered.

Max spoke to Alison who was among those taking part. "People have been waving and stopping and looking, and the lorry drivers, especially the British ones are tooting away at you and flashing their lights on the motorway."

It's day five and we've done about 1600 miles and we're on a really remote spot on the Italian Adriatic coast at Cesenatico. There is a lovely scent of herbs in the air, and we've been travelling through some wonderful medieval villages and there's even a little mountain stream trickling away behind me. It's totally unspoilt - and just so peaceful… (Cue roar of Mini Cooper)

Until of course half a dozen Minis come round the bend.

"The roads and the countryside that's available are just fantastic," says Tara. "My brother was in the car and we were coming down through this gorgeous pass it was stunning. We had such a good time we just couldn't slow up. My brother literally fell out of the car when we stopped. His knees had gone and bless him he was sick right there beside the car. But all the drivers had grins as big as the grills on their cars." Light sleepers don't get much shut-eye on this rally. You retire to the sound of late-night mechanics and spanners dropping on the floor. And the dawn chorus is one of Minis proudly revving their engines ready for the day ahead.

After a few days, the lack of sleep and what can only be called navigational tension takes its toll. As Tineka and Reno from Holland found out. "You get tired and you get prickly and tense. You are sitting in a Mini for twelve days in a row, you are very close to each other and you're trying to find a road, and then she says go left, left, left and you say no, no, no we have to go right, right, right."

At the journeys end the jobbers are exhausted but there's one final burst of energy for a special gala reception with guest of honour, one of the film's stars Robert Powell. "They all seem to have so much energy. I think I would be absolutely exhausted after a day at the wheel of a car. I would probably be in bed by ten o'clock," says Powell. "They all seem to be having such a good time and I think that it is just fantastic that a charity can benefit from a thirty year old film. There's one hundred cars, two hundred and thirty people who are all having a ball and the charities involved all benefit to the tune of a hundred thousand pounds."

Ten days and 3000 miles later, we're back on British soil. We came, we saw, we ate too much spaghetti and we'd done a great British journey in the great British car.

"We have genuinely always enjoyed it", says an exhausted Tara Collinson, "and the people are so into the cars and to the meeting and everything else. It just gets under your skin. To be honest a sixties Mini Cooper is all I've ever wanted to own. I'll be buried in it, I genuinely love that car.