It takes just a few minutes to make the last, small bullet hole disappear. Manfred Buszkiewicz is sitting in dappled shade next to the hotel manager, watching the repair work and drinking a morning beer.
His mobile phone makes a bleating noise whenever it receives a report on his favorite soccer team, 1 FC Cologne (the club's mascot is a Billy goat).
He brought Kamel a food processor, a large bottle of Joop! They gave him and his wife Fatima a suite on the fourth floor of the left wing, the only one the hotel is currently using.
Buszkiewicz defied the circumstances, as has the Hotel Imperial Marhaba.
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.
"There are usually 700 to 800 guests here at this time of the year," says Buszkiewicz. It's a dance of the dead." 'Perfectly Understandable' The June 26 massacre destroyed the tourism industry in Tunisia.
This is his fifth stay at the Riu Imperial Marhaba, where the personnel call him Manni. Although everything is included in the room price at the Imperial Marhaba, the waiters depend on tips, and now that there are few guests, they are especially dependent on Manni.
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.
'We Are a Symbol' The neighboring hotels on the beach were already closed when Buszkiewicz and his wife arrived, the Bellevue to the left, the Palm Marina to the right, as were most of the others stretching for miles along the Mediterranean beaches, all the way to the city of Sousse.
Only the Imperial Marhaba, the hotel where the biggest terrorist attack in Tunisian history took place, is still open.