I arrange to meet Harry Bowen on a gloriously warm and sunny autumn afternoon at Colchester’s Abbey Field.

When I greet him in the car park of the Colchester Garrison athletics track, Mr Bowen – who is the leading man in Jacky, one of Colchester Fringe’s drama productions – instantly exudes alacrity and positivity.

As we make our way to a nearby park to begin the interview, we get chatting almost immediately.

What makes Mr Bowen’s joviality all the more remarkable is what he has had to go through since suffering a life-changing accident – an accident which, for anyone, would be the stuff of nightmares.

Mr Bowen makes his way to one of the play parks on Abbey Field in Colchester using two crutches, though the fact he can walk at all could be said to be a minor miracle.

When we take a seat on a park bench to begin the interview, about a dozen young children enjoy some of the equipment in the park; they run around and clamber on the climbing frames, or are pushed by their parents in the swings.

Mr Bowen, too, used to be able to enjoy these carefree pleasures, for his childhood seemed just like any other.

But it was a freak accident at the age of 11 whilst he was on a school trip which would change his life forever, and partially paralyse him from the waist down.

Even then, Mr Bowen was one of the lucky ones; the accident killed his schoolfriend, Daniel, instantly.

It is such a tragic story that I can hardly believe it when he talks me through the series of events leading up to it, how he recovered, and how he has managed to rebuild his life.

In 2007, Mr Bowen was on a school trip to the Fellbrigg Hall Estate in Norfolk, and it was he who was tasked with leading a group of friends through some woodland.

As the rain came down, the group took shelter under a nearby tree.

The last thing Mr Bowen recalls is hearing a deafening crack.

One imagines Mr Bowen, now 27, has had to recount this incident countless times, and it certainly makes it hard to hear.

But even as he describes what happened, there is a mention of the “lovely” dog-walkers who came over to help him.

He said: “The last thing I remember is hearing a loud crack and I was on the ground with this two to three tonne branch over my pelvis.

“I don’t remember too much about all that, admittedly. I remember a couple of lovely ladies with their dog walking by, coming over, and talking to me.

“The next thing I remember, I was awake in a hospital.”

Mr Bowen’s life was never going to be the same again.

He had a dislocated pelvis, shattered hips, as well as extensive nerve damage and internal bleeding.

He then recounts what happened to Daniel.

“My best friend who was caught up in the accident was hit in the back of the head," he said.

“Bless his heart, he was killed outright – he didn’t feel a thing.”

“I felt guilty; I had the map and I led them.

“But it wasn’t my fault, and I know it wasn’t anyone in the group’s fault.”

The ensuing years were fraught with physical and emotional trauma, and Mr Bowen described how he missed out on everything – from playing football, to playing the role of one of Robin Hood’s Merry Men in the Year 6 show.

Typically, however, Mr Bowen is not one to focus on what he has lost.

“I’ve gained so much in return – I played wheelchair basketball for four years in the past, which was brilliant fun.

“I think I’ve become more empathetic and much more understanding of people, which has been a great help to me – it’s kind of swings and roundabouts, really.”

His love of drama has also had a major influence on his life.

Taking place this weekend at the Mercury Theatre is the drama production, Jacky, which sees Mr Bowen star as the wheelchair-bound Antonio, who himself has suffered a life-changing accident.

Written by Colchester-based playwright Paul Davies, Jacky is, in Mr Bowen’s words, “a masterpiece” – and central to it is wheelchair ballroom dancing.

Mr Bowen has honed wheelchair ballroom dancing courtesy of an instructor, Jane Hambling, of Cha Cha Chairs.

When I ask him about it, he gives a mischievous laugh.

“When you perform a dance, and you’re using your legs, there's beats, there’s steps.

“In a wheelchair, there are no steps, because you’re on wheels, so you have to find a beat within the music

“That was my hardest challenge – trying to find the beat, the rhythm, in all the different songs.

“I would go off into my village and I would literally go onto this tennis court when it was empty, and I would do these moves on my own in my wheelchair with earphones in with the songs playing.

“It was just really fun – I never thought it would be that exciting.”

The upbeat air of positivity which emanates from Mr Bowen’s dynamism, if anything, almost seems a little incongruous with what he has suffered.

Yet it is that optimism which has taken Mr Bowen through such a trying time and, as clichéd as it is to say, it is that optimism which has made him who he is now.

As we head back to the car park, the afternoon sunlight is still shines down on us.

I wish Mr Bowen all the best of luck with the drama production, and thank him for all the time he committed to talk me through what happened.

Bidding me farewell, Mr Bowen exhibits his trademark characteristic carefree optimism, as we leave behind the young children still playing in the Abbey Field play park.