Ah, I first read as a single phrase "photography restrooms", which throws open all sorts of questions if you suppress the euphemism. Rooms for photographers to rest? Or where subjects might go to recover from being photographed? 
Or from looking at photographs?
One mother of a day today: got out of bed at 7 in the morning to get my ass down to Palma to investigate the info. that I was sent regarding the 'service' of my watch. The 'info' claimed that the screwing base of the thing had been severely bumped, that it presented serious removal problems in Madrid (surprising they'd do that, as it has, ultimately, to go to Geneva!), that the hands were showing signs of condensation, that one of the links in the bracelet wasn't original issue, and that anyway, the bracelet could not be replaced, being obsolete.
Well, I obviously wasn't going to sign that off by e-mail! The thing's been serviced three times: the first time by Watches of Switzerland in Britain (I have the stamped booklet - they pretend it's a car) and the other two times by the same specialist dealer in Palma. That suggests: Rolex sold a sub-par product as new; somebody in the select two dealerships has screwed me; somebody is now trying to screw me again; that a watch guaranteed to withstand water pressure up to 600 ft. nonetheless leaks if, presumably, I sweat (I have not swum with it - or without it - for over 15 years). Oh - a replacement strap, that will fit, but not an expander (thank goodness) like the original is, can be had, for only €1200. And somebody at one of these establishments has dropped the damned thing on the floor. I never saw any such signs of damage.
I laughed at the young man in the beautiful suit and told him that one day, that could be my son's problem, and that no doubt they would meet. Right. Oh - apparently, as I bought the watch in 1972, it's now an antique and worth a lot of money to collectors. I was going to tell him about Leicas, but thought the hell with it... Regardless, the service will take six or seven weeks.
In retrospect, these things make some sort of sense when you are young and working your way upwards, they are symbols that are recognized by
some who matter to you and your career, but after that passes, they become somewhat inaccurate, heavy and bulky watches. Period. Oh - if you wear them in the wrong places, they can also cost you your life; watches to die for, then.
As it that wasn't enough, I used an underground parking I haven't used before; coming out I took the wrong turn a few street down, and ended giving myself the Grand Tour of the city. At least that wasn't extra.
Tomorrow's another day.
But back to photography: I had switched the af lens for a manual one; I found it damned slow, if not useless. How age alters your abilities. I may have some reasonable shots from the trip - or not. The suspense is killing me, or at least, it should feel like that but doesn't.
Rob
