I have an annual tradition of standing outside my Auckland flat at this time of year and staring into the abyss that is my overgrown, under maintained garden and wishing I cared enough or just had the general know-how to landscape my garden into the summer outdoor entertainment paradise of my dreams.

What this usually transpires into is me impulsively getting elbow-deep in the weeds and continuously attempting to pull them out in an almost trance like state until I’ve soiled the completely inappropriate outfit that I happened to be wearing at the time.

My latest blitz earlier this year got me thinking. After three hours of pulling at weeds, causing significant strain to my lower back, the thought struck me that I should reach out to my community of amateur weed experts on Instagram for advice.

Sadly, Instagram only had devasting news for me. I wasn’t just dealing with any old garden weed; I was trying to take on kikuyu. A native from East Africa, this grass was imported to New Zealand because of its resilience in coastal climates. It grows deep and thick into the soil, twisting and tangling in on itself like the cable of some headphones lost in a tote bag. “You leave one bit of that grass untouched, and the whole thing will grow back in a week,” said one concerned Instagram follower. “Just give up now and let it grow out into a full lawn,” said another. Kikuyu’s reputation had me trembling in my pristine white sneakers that I had regrettably started gardening in and had since ruined.

It felt like there was no conceivable way I was ever going to win against the kikuyu. Then and there, I chose to give up on my summer entertainment paradise dream. I decided to move on to bigger and brighter things like filming Celebrity Treasure Island New Zealand. I signed up for the show as a way to escape the weeds of my everyday life; I had visions of myself drinking directly out of a coconut on the sandy beaches of Fiji and making friends with the likes of Art Green.

Unfortunately, due to our dear friend Covid, I found myself instead only a half-day drive out of Auckland and digging for treasure, not in the golden sandy beaches of my dreams, but on the coast of Northland, face to face once again with my mortal enemy – the kikuyu weed.

Watching my fellow contestants dig feverishly for treasure through the kikuyu, I stopped searching, and it struck me, there is no way the treasure would be under this stuff. I’ve tried for the last five years to dig that weed up to no avail. How has some underpaid intern with the television production company dug up the kikuyu and buried the treasure underneath in a matter of a few days?

Once again, I let the kikuyu win. I walked away from the weeds and decided to dig somewhere easier. It was there, in my defeated state, that my spade happened to slide right through the soil and hit the treasure. A reality show victory was mine, and 100k went to Rainbow Youth.

So, this summer, I’ve hired a gardener to come in and dig up the kikuyu for me. I will finally have the summer garden paradise of my dreams, and while It may feel like I’m cheating by paying someone else to do it for me, it still feels earned.

IN THE WEEDS