The 2018 Hamilton Gardens Arts Festival has been fantastic. From Shirley Valentine performed in the Italian Renaissance Garden to A Midsummer Night’s Dream performed amongst the trees, I have loved every moment of it. Especially because I have had the privilege of performing in it myself.

One day, I was a fairy, flitting around getting photographs with children. One older boy tried to get smart with me, telling me he didn’t believe in fairies. Of course, I replied that every time someone says that, a fairy drops down dead. I expected him to laugh and repeat it, but instead he looked quite guilty and told me he’d chase away anyone who said it!

Another older boy threatened to hit me, so I told him (wisely or not) that fairies can only be harmed by iron, to which the boy replied, “There’s iron in my body!” Clever child, you must concede, so I leaned in and said, “I’d better not eat you then.”

One day, I was Marie Antoinette, promenading around with a fellow courtly lady. For the last half-hour or so, two little girls, attached themselves to us, so we taught them how to say, “Bonsoir, monsieur!”

One day, I was a flapper statue as part of the entertainment for the Katherine Mansfield Garden Party. Katherine Mansfield is New Zealand’s most celebrated author, who died at a tragically young age in the 1920s. The garden party had live jazz music and vintage stalls, and I got a photograph with a little girl who was rather apathetic towards my presence until she found out that we were both called Abby!

The Hamilton Gardens Arts Festival happens every year in February, so if you’re anywhere near the Waikato then, come and join in. I met a couple of British tourists there: I’d just slumped gratefully into a seat at the café when this bloke leaned over and said, “Shouldn’t you be standing still?” I told him I’d just finished “me” shift and he asked if I was travelling.

“No, me family immigrated ’ere when ah were a kid,” I said.

Yes, I was playing up my accent for the fun of it. I often do that. When a few older men started to get a bit handsy with me when I was the fairy, for example, I suddenly came out with a roguish Scouse accent that made it easier for me to fend off their actions and make my escape before anything happened. But I digress.

This British couple were surprised to hear that Hamilton is like New Zealand’s equivalent of Coventry, a city mercilessly mocked merely because it is. To them, Hamilton seemed like a beacon of culture. And it is! Enjoy the pictures and make sure you visit yourself one day.

Thank you to the Free Lunch Street Theatre Company, of which I am a part, for posing for these wonderful photos, taken by my partner, Tim.