An' there ain't no 'busses runnin' to Mandalay

I'm afraid that I'm a soft romantic at heart. When I look into the Rowan tree at our door I don't see a fat-feeder for the birds but instead a temple bell. Zoomify to enjoy the "tropical epiphytes". Then I start thinking of Kipling and soon I'm whisked off to Mandalay.

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay! "
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay ?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

Mandalay. Rudyard Kipling. 1892