Where do you write? In bed, like Walker Percy, Edith Wharton, Collette, Proust, James Joyce, Mark Twain…and me (at African Rainbow Resort)?

Photo from Aerphant.

A tidbit from my Author’s Guild Bulletin caught my eye:

“Comfy: Where do you do your writing? For a book of photographs, The Writer’s Desk, by Jill Krementz and published in 1996, John Updike wrote the introduction.

“He was interested that some writers seem to avoid a desk entirely. Updike wrote, ‘Walker Percy is actually in bed, a classic writing site utilized by Edith Wharton, Colette, Proust and James Joyce, who sprawled across his and Nora’s bed in a riot of notes to himself.'”

On my recent month-long journey to Ghana, West Africa, I stayed at African Rainbow Resort in Busua Beach for three weeks. These were three of the happiest weeks in my adult life, complete with Christmas, turning 60 and being celebrated as an elder, and Reggae on the Roof for New Years.

Part of my pleasure was having a balanced structure for my day, complete with morning exercise, companionship, and solitude to write in the splendor of my room—complete with balcony.

MORNING WALK: I got up to walk to the point on Busua beach around 6 a.m., before the heat set in later in the day. There, I often met up with Comfort, one of the co-owners of the African Rainbow Resort. She is a daughter of Ghana who survived transplanting to Canada for many years and then came back home with her husband and family to fulfill their dream of building a beautiful and welcoming place for traveler’s to sojourn. Often, Comfort would be accompanied by Stevie, her 6-month old basic African mutt who I developed an affectionate relationship with, even though I am not usually so much of a dog person.

Or, I might encounter Nat, a local bicycle tour entrepreneur. Or, perhaps the longtime married intercultural couple who invited me over for a stimulating evening visit on the terrace of their room at Busua Beach Resort.

BREAKFAST: Upon my return to the resort, I let Joyce, one of my server-friends, know I was back and what I would have for breakfast. I ran upstairs to sluice off in the shower and change from my now-sweaty clothes into fresh, crisp clothing fit for public appearances. I came down to eat…often meeting more interesting guests in the dining room.

MORNING MEETING WITH NANA After I finished breakfast, Nana (the honorary development chief title given to Rod McLaren) strolled in for our open-ended morning meeting.

We then engaged in what I term “jazz conversations” in which each participant fully engages with the conversational partner. Prerequistes? Enough time to feel there is no time. These conversations are leisurely affairs with one topic seamlessly linking to another, hardly able to tell where one topic or story ends, and another begins. Each participant is both a good talker and a good listener. The latter skill is utterly essential for a jazz conversation to occur. Simply putting two good talkers in a room together with weak listening skills will not do, a’tall.

We spoke of writing and publishing; we spoke of our cross-cultural experiences and perspectives; we spoke of our love and admiration of our mutual friend Alan Brody, recently of Iowa City, but for 25-years in UNICEF a citizen of the world. We’d both met Alan during our time in Ghana during the early 1970s, so we shared that context. Alan was the means through which I came to the African Rainbow Resort. There was no topic off-limits, and these conversations could dip into humor and politics and book reviews and any thing we damn well pleased, with no holes barred, no particular result sought or needed, but in the end…found: enormous riches and soul nourishment.

WRITING IN BED Then, with all my social and physical needs met, I retired to my spacious room with the warthog mural on the well. I repaired to my kingsize bed (“took to my bed” one friend terms it), opened my laptop and worked for hours until I tired.

MID-DAY REPAST Feeling a little peckish, I ambled downstairs to eat yet another of Chef Michael’s deliciously prepared and gorgeously presented meals…in the company of my amiable and efficient servers, Joyce and Issac, most frequently. I signed for my meal expenses (the signature that stands for money at the end of the stay…but, I felt like a powerful V.I.P. signing for services).

AFTERNOON WORK SESSION Back to my boudoir, then. Stripping off my public clothes, I wrapped in Ghana cloth for modesty and coolness, as the ceiling fan whirred, sipping the ice tea I’d prepared from my morning tea in my small icebox.

I then wrote again for several hours until I tired in the late afternoon/early evening. I might then go over to the Busua Beach Resort every few days to check my email on their pay-per-use service.

EVENING REPAST Back to the African Rainbow Resort for a repeat performance by Chef Michael and my servers. Sometimes we’d dance together to the music piped in from the bar…or I’d meet some more fascinating guests to chat up…or, Stevie (the House Dog) would come to keep me company under the table, nibbling my ankles…or, Miss Vera and her charming baby Merissa (the House Baby) would come down with Priscilla, the young nursemaid, to visit with us all and liven up the space.

Once as I was leaving the door of the resort to pass into the front garden, I met Grace and her midwife friends, here for a conference at the next door Busua Beach Resort—the adjacent much fancier and less welcoming establishment. This night though the conference was throwing a good-bye dance and Grace whisked me off to it, dressed just as I was. She turned out to be a dancing fool who knew all the lyrics to the songs as did her friends. Later, she invited me to Winneba for Carnival on New Years Day…and I went. I stayed at Lagoon Lodge, a very inexpensive guest house where Nana goes for his writing retreats. I met Grace to watch Carival from the front porch of her house, conveniently situated on Main Street where the parade passed. I was warmly welcomed with emblematic Ghanaian hospitality by her entire family and got to see where my new friend lived.

Thus it was throughout my stay. Everything easy-going and generous. No need for oppulence when you have the riches of friendship…and the anchor of a productive day…writing in bed.