SARAH OSBORNE visits a former British colonial possession in the Indian Ocean where — just like her father Julian would have done in Britain and overseas for his long running series of articles for us — she insists on sampling the unique atmosphere of its well patronised if sometimes scary interurban bus lines
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Mauritius is a tiny country – approximately the size of West Sussex. To drive from the far south to the far north via the central motorway (its only motorway) takes just a couple of hours and it is more than possible to circumnavigate the entire island in a day, with plenty of time for lunch and photo stops.
To travel the same distance by bus, therefore, seemed more than possible, especially with an entire day in which to do it. But when I suggested that this was something that I might like to do, I was met with a lot of umming and ahhing from my Mauritian friends.
Passengers sit on metal-framed benches beneath often-scratched windows and stop buttons that resemble light switches
‘You’ll have to go to Port Louis first,’ they said. The capital city is about two thirds of the way up the country on the west coast of the island, my starting point would be Blue Bay in the far south-east a…
