Mauritius is about a lot of things: the sea, the sun, dholl-purees, rougaille poisson salé, the séga, Phoenix beer, koz n’importe and, well, picnic dans bis.

Since I was a kid, I love going to picnics in a rented bus. Most of the time, we rent a 60-seats bus and pack it with (i) family (ii) drinks and (iii) food. And, of course, we make sure that all of us coming know (i) how to sing the séga and (ii) drink without, ahem, spilling.

As you can guess, I am in an excellent mood right now because I’ll be going on a picnic dans bis very shortly. I hope I’ll manage to capture some nice pictures to share with you.

Incidentally, all my Chinese relatives will come to the picnic. As you know, Christina’s father is Chinese. His sister and himself came to Mauritius just after the Second World War from China. That was more than 60 years ago. My father-in-law never went back to China and, consequently, did not meet anyone else from his family for more than 60 years. So you can easily imagine how happy his sister and himself are to meet their youngest brother (who was a kid when they left) who has just come to visit them in Mauritius:

(From right to left: my father-in-law (Christina’s father), his youngest brother (he is more than 60 now!) who lives in China and has come to Mauritius for the first time, my father-in-law’s sister who lives in Mauritius and who is now 84, the brother’s wife, Christina, Kyan and Anya.)

Maybe you briefly saw Christina and myself on TV during the 19:30 news bulletin a few days ago? MBC thought that siblings meeting each other after more than 60 years of separation was newsworthy. I tend to agree.

How do you say picnic dans bis in Hakka?

[Bus photo courtesy of Helen Morgan.]