"We are a symbol," says General Manager Mehrez Saadi."The terrorists have not won as long as we are here." His bold pronouncement sails through the abandoned atrium of his shiny, empty hotel like a paper airplane.The Riu Marhaba Imperial has 130 employees, including 26 headwaiters. There are 80 wicker chairs on the terrace, but only one of them is occupied -- by Buszkiewicz. One of the two waiters promptly disappears into the deserted hotel lobby.It's the size of a soccer field and 15 meters (50 feet) high, with a glass dome at the top.The only discernible movement in the lobby is that of the four glass elevators, as they move rhythmically up and down.After a minute, the next beer arrives -- with a frothy head, as Buszkiewicz had requested.A friend from Düsseldorf, an elderly woman named Gisela, was killed in the massacre.
She talked about Spain and Greece, and Buszkiewicz nodded. Buszkiewicz owns a small company that makes conveyor belts.
Buszkiewicz, who is from the town of Euskirchen, near Cologne, has the club's app on his phone.
It's a Tuesday morning in mid-September, the second week of Buszkiewicz's vacation.
The marble floor is filled with armchairs, sofas, glass tables, palm trees and a large black concert grand.
A guest could sit in the lobby for an hour, pondering life, without seeing a single person.