The town of Reims is just a pleasant train trip northeast from Paris. The town gets its name (almost unpronounceable in French) from the Rémi, a Gallic tribe who lived there before Roman times.
It was a cold, cloudy, windy day in October—thoroughly miserable—but a short walk from the station took me to the cathedral. In France, Reims Cathedral has a similar significance as Westminster Abbey has in England. It was here that French Kings were crowned.
I sat at an outdoor café nearby and watched the carousel in the pedestrian mall in front of me. I wrapped my shivering fingers around my hot cup and took my first sip of steaming coffee. As I gave a sigh of sheer comfort and pleasure, Joan arrived.
I was pleased to see her. This was the town of her second greatest triumph. The town where she
