The day after Dunkirk, and the weather followed us inland: mist on the stone, a fine drizzle on the cobbles, the kind of morning that flattens everything to grey and makes the bronze shine. Reims was a short stop, a few hours between the coast and the Rhine, and it still managed to be the most formal city on the route.

It is a city built for ceremony. The avenue to the Hôtel de Ville runs straight as a parade ground, and the building at the end of it carries a king on horseback above the doors. A few streets away, in Place Royale, Louis XV stands dressed as a Roman general with one arm out, facing the cathedral as if the two of them have been arguing for three hundred years. At his feet, the allegories: a woman with her hand on a lion, a man lost in thought. Kingship with the weight left in.

The street that leads to it feels processional, as if designed for kings, or careful photographers.

The cathedral itself I left mostly for another visit. What I did photograph was the Portal of the North Transept, round the side away from the crowds, tier on tier of carved figures that I shot close and stitched into a single very large image. It is the one on the cover of the first print issue, and it is below, where you can get a lot closer than the stone would normally allow.

Reims is on the list to go back to, in better light, with more time. For now, this is what a rainy morning gave.