He might be a knight of the realm, but Sir Peter Hall still only has an hour for lunch.

The theatre director hasn't earned a reputation that seems above the reach of mere mortals by putting his feet up, and at the age of 77 he remains as busy as ever.

In recent months, he has realised a lifelong ambition by seeing the opening of a new theatre in South London, has directed Chekhov's Uncle Vanya, a production which comes to York next week, and after lunch he is off around the corner to oversee technical rehearsals for the West End opening of his latest production, Noël Coward's The Vortex.

After more than half a century in the business, it's tempting to say there can be little he has not seen before. It would seem not.

"I still get nervous now," says Sir Peter, devouring a plate of dim sum at a sushi restaurant in the heart of London's theatreland. "If you're not nervous, you're not doing the job properly. Nerves are all part of the process, for actors and directors, they help with the evolution of a show, help make you sharper.

"Years ago, in the early '60s, I had to have a medical for a movie I was going to do and they found that I had really high blood pressure. I was only 30 years old, so I couldn't understand how that was possible. After tests, they told me the problem was that I was an adrenalin junkie. I'm desperate for the thrill of doing what I do."

Sir Peter has been displaying this razor sharpness ever since he was an undergraduate at Cambridge, where he very nearly scuppered his future by almost failing his degree.

"I was just so busy," he laughs. "I directed five plays in my final year."

Academia held little interest for Sir Peter, a boy from a working-class background. He already knew – had done for several years – what his calling in life was. He was born to be a theatre director.

When he left Cambridge for London, he landed a directing role at The Arts Theatre as assistant to the man in charge, John Fernald. When Fernald left to go to RADA, Sir Peter found himself at 24-years-old, running a theatre in the country's capital.

This precocity set out the path for the director's future career and it was while at the Arts Theatre that a script arrived on Sir Peter's desk that would go on to change the history of British theatre.

"Godot? I have this occasional nightmare – one where it's finals tomorrow at Cambridge and I have done no work and there is another where I choose not to stage Godot," says the director, the first person to stage Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot in England.

"When I read the play, I didn't think, 'Here is a turning point in mid-20th century drama and theatre'. All I really thought was that here was something entirely original, I thought it was incredibly poetic and evoked poets like Eliot. I got it when I was rehearsing Mourning Becomes Electra and I picked it up during a break – and I didn't put it down again.

"Whether you do a play or not is a decision very much based on instinct, I couldn't give you a rational reason for why you would do any play."

The critics, at first, were unkind to the play and both the young director and writer. "The theatre wanted to take it off, but I convinced them to wait until the Sunday reviews, just to see what would happen, because I really thought we had something," says Sir Peter.

The Sunday papers came out and everything changed for everyone involved.

"After Godot I received a letter that said, 'I have seen your play, would like you to look at mine?' It was from Harold Pinter," says Sir Peter, who went on to produce The Homecoming and became the default director of Pinter's work.

There is simply too much to cover when talking to a man who created and ran the Royal Shakespeare Company, who led the National Theatre, who brought to the stage Pinter and Beckett. He directed the true greats of modern theatre, guided Gielgud through The Tempest at the National, conducted Dame Judi Dench in seasons at the RSC.

He locked horns with Margaret Thatcher throughout the '80s, when she publicly asked why exactly the Government funded his work.

Where do you start?

"I wouldn't know either," laughs the veteran director.

Perhaps the obvious question is why hasn't he retired? It turns out it is the same reason he doesn't allow himself a long lunch.

"It has never occurred to me to stop working, I am one of those lucky few people in life who gets to do the thing I really, truly love, the thing I would rather be doing than being on holiday. If I had a choice between working and being on holiday, I would choose to be working every time." A smile spreads across his face and he adds: "And people pay me to do it."

"The thing for me about directing is not about chasing success or publicity or any of those silly things. It's not even about the money. I have had so many happy experiences. It is about the experience of being there at the beginning, at the creation of a happy, wonderful family."

The experience this time around, with Chekhov's Uncle Vanya, it seems that Sir Peter has also enjoyed the play. "I last did this play as a student at Cambridge. I think, without being arrogant, that I have got closer to Chekhov this time than I ever have before.

"I think this is the play that he wrote – in the sense that what I have managed to put on stage is the play that Chekhov wanted when he wrote it."

Asking the director to look back over his career, he seems genuinely pleased at the chance to do so.

"I never really think about looking back – unless I'm being interviewed," he says.

Does he never think about the impact he has had with all that he has contributed to the stage?

"I've really enjoyed working with people like Judi (Dench) and Ralph Richardson was such a wonderful actor. Peter O'Toole I enjoyed working with. One of the times I was on the Arts Council, I was alongside Henry Moore, and I had an interesting relationship with Larry (Laurence Olivier)," he says.

"But you don't want to sound like you're just listing well-known people you have worked with."

And with that, Sir Peter heads off. To direct the Noël Coward play. Starring Felicity Kendall.

Uncle Vanya is at York Theatre Royal, March 4 to 8.