I’m standing in darkness, waiting for first light to illuminate my surroundings.

Silence, occasionally punctuated by birdsong or rain, fills the crypt. I can smell the limestone in the moist air and the ground is damp, a precursor to the flood in winter.

The crypt feels otherworldly – untouched, as if time has stood still, since it was built in 1079.

Light spills into the vault as the sun rises, allowing for a long exposure to reveal the crypt before the flood.