But for the row of cameras pointed at 53 Martin Place, it could have been any ordinary morning in Sydney’s bustling CBD.
Suits hustled past carrying coffees, news headlines (“One Direction members get weed bond”) ticked across the Channel 7 studios, a lone protester demanding “the corruption must stop” tied a homemade sign to his body using orange twine.
Not much physical evidence remained of the horror of those 16 hours last December. Of the sea of flowers that swamped Martin Place in the aftermath of “the Sydney siege”, only a sprig remained, tied to a light pole above a note reading: “The light shines in the darkness and darkness has never put it out.”
Almost 95 days to the hour since Man Haron Monis strode into the cafe carrying a blue bag, the cameras were gathered to witness the doors of the Lindt cafe reopening.
The New South Wales premier, Mike Baird, captured the competing emotions. “Our thoughts and prayers remain with the victim’s families and friends. It’s a tough day, every day is tough, and we continue to mourn with them,” he told the media scrum outside.
“It’s also an important day in this city because actions intended to cause hate and division actually brought peace and unity … Today is a reminder that whilst we were challenged, we have come through that test.”
Inside, no trace remained of the 22 rounds police fired as they stormed the building. A CCTV camera had been erected in the corner, however, and two plaques had been placed by the entrance: one for the slain cafe manager, Tori Johnston, the other for Katrina Dawson, the barrister and mother-of-three killed in the final, chaotic minutes of the siege.
Above jazzy music, staff did their best to get on with it, talking effusively about bringing “that chocolate feeling to life”. Joel Herat, one of the employees taken hostage, was back at work, but made himself scant as media toured the cafe.
Despite the cheer and chocolate samples, an eerie feeling still gathered by the bay windows from which hostages were forced to display Monis’ flag and the marble walls off which bullets ricocheted.
Lines to enter the cafe stretched around the block and included Claire Sullivan from Randwick. “I just wanted to come here and show support,” she said. “We’re not scared, are we?”
Like many Australians she had felt a personal connection with the ordeal of the hostages. She had been admitted to hospital that day and was watching TV at 2am when police stormed the building.
Jocelyn Vieria used to get her morning coffee from the cafe and was also waiting in line. “I’m here to support Sydney and Lindt, to show there’s a lot of good in the world,” she said.
“The day of the siege was so dark. Life had been sucked out of the city. I want to show that Sydney will remain defiant.”
Former Lindt employee Karen Cox said she was “very shaky” as she waited outside.
“Walking through the line like everyone else, I just felt a whole heap of warmth,” she said. “It looks really wonderful, really bright.”
