Queen Victoria would have smiled

Bogumił Pacak-Gamalski

In 1856 Major General Richard Moody founded the City as a Capital of the colony of British Columbia. Actually he named it originally as a Queensborough. It was no one other than Queen Victoria, who called it a Royal City, and because the Seat of the Power was in Parliament in London – it was formally called a New Westminster.

Hence, it retained that old charm and European – in the Island flavor , of course – style of streets and architecture. The two main streets are Columbia and above it , you guessed it – is naturally Royal Avenue leading to – again, of course – Royal Park.

Eventually much later, in the 1920, Vancouver overtook it by size and population. But the Royal City remained with its stiff upper lip, LOL.

I have not been here for almost a decade. But it feels and looks like nothing has changed. Naturally, it did. But almost just superficially: it used to be that every second store was a wedding dresses, long tails and suits. There are still few of them and prominently displayed but the majority was replaced with new, metro-style trendy cafes, little restaurants with excellent cuisine, boulangeries –patiseries (It will be the death of me, considering my weakness for a good cake and pastries, aj wej!), even an excellent exotic and elegant (very handsome perfumer) salon with perfumes called ‘Aromatica’ – that will be the death of my bank account, LOL. Did I mention that salon is exactly next door to an entrance to the building I’m living in? Aj wej!!! There is also rather visible (or audible) musical life here. Back in my first years here there was a popular restaurant/club ‘Heritage Grill’. Used to go there many times for a good music and good drinks. Often with dances, which my Mom used to like very much. While still living in Halifax, the owner notified me that the club was consumed by fire. so now the musicians move to little drinking hole ‘Judge Begbie’s Tavern’ and at least twice a week old singers and players and new aspiring ones gather there for impromptu concerts. Little corner by the door where they perform is called Heritage Grill Corner. Nice. Spent an evening there and had a nice chat with two young singers.

Enough of these ahs! and ohs!. Beter turn to pictures and see for yourself.

Futuristic City – Miasto Jutra

Bogumił Pacak-Gamalski

(in English and in Polish)

Specifically and accurately speaking it is not ‘a city’, entire town – rather a specific fragment of Burnaby, major part of Greater Vancouver. Even more specific – a small but prominent section concentrated around intersection of Kingsway, Willingdon and Beresford streets. What is popularly called a Metrotown. A city of glass towers with massive commercial mall in the middle of it.

Któż nie pamięta “Przedwiośnia” Stefana Żeromskiego (jeśli ktoś nie pamięta, to nie powód do chwały – pewne kanony literatury polskiej winny być podstawą tego, co określa się mianem świadomości inteligentnego [czyt. mądrego Polaka]) i jego wizji szklanych domów Baryki? Symbolu nowoczesnej, sprawiedliwej i pięknej odrodzonej Polski. Nawet jeśli “Przedwiośnia” nie bardzo pamiętacie – to bez wątpienia, co te hasło Polska szklanych domów oznaczało, jako metafora.

Odwiedzając wczoraj spacerem środkowy fragment Burnaby, nazywany od molocha-centrum handlowego Metrotown, wspomniałem tą metaforę z “Przedwiośnia”. Całą tą przestrzeń wciśniętą między ulicami Royal Oak, Kingsway, Willingdon i Imperial. Ale podobnie, jak wizją Żeromskiego nie miała z rzeczywistością wiele wspólnego, tak i ta wizja z Metrotown nic o sprawiedliwości społecznej nie mówiła. Jeśli literackie skojarzenia to zdecydowanie Lem a nie Żeromski przychodził na myśl. A właściwie jeszcze dalej i konkretniej: merkantylizm, blichtr, popyt-podaż. Ludzie tam chodzący to nie mieszkańcy – to klienci. Trudno uwierzyć, że tuż obok są urocze, rozległe miejsca spacerowe pięknego Central Park; nieco w dół Deer Lake uroczy, czy choćby spacerowe alejki wzdłuż Sanderson Way. Jeśli nie wiesz – pojęcia mieć nie możesz , bo te szklanno-betonowe ściany ulic przesłaniają wszelką perspektywę widokową. Naprawdę szkoda. Trzydzieści lat temu mieszkałem tu niedaleko, na Capitol Hill. Metrotown już istniał, cały ten wielki mall. Istniało wiele ze starszych wieżowców, ale wszystko miało to ciągle jakiś ludzki wymiar. Nie było martwą (mimo ciągłego ruchu, bieganiny) pustynią megalitów.

Przyznaję, że te szklane ściany przy odpowiednim naświetleniu, niebie i chmurach są gratką wielkich luster. I jest to ciekawe zjawisko i wyzwanie fotograficzne. Kilka z tego dnia zdjęć poniżej. Co naturalnie nie zmienia moich refleksji powyżej.

The charm of Downtown Vancouver through camera lense

Bogumił Pacak-Gamalski

I posted here already photo galleries of Commercial Drive in Vancouver; of quaint sweet Ladner; of course of my beloved Stanley Park. Now it is time for cherry on top of it: the incomparable beauty of Downtown Vancouver.

Były tu już posty w ostatnich miesiącach z ruchliwej, uroczej Commercial Drive we Wschodnim Vancouverze; były z magicznego, zaczarowanego Stanley Parku, z uroczego małego Town of Ladner. Czas na koronę tego piękna zwanego Wielkim Vancouverem: Downtown Vancouver.

Trails, Sun and Moon above Okanagan Lake

Bogumił Pacak-Gamalski

During the long Pleistocene there were few glacial movements in what is known now as an Okanagan Valley. It created an amazing mixture of land and water formations near Kelowna. Of course Okanagan Lake, the largest depository and former deepest channel of the glacier as it retreated from these lands. But there is multitude of smaller lakes stretching to Shuswap and Arrow Lakes to the east and multitude of smaller lakes in the mountains and hills surrounding the valley. Between – a maze of streams and small rivers feeding middle size lakes (Maramata, Kalamalka and Wood – to name just a few) or the huge Okanagan Lake.

Today I went for trek to some of the high hills (mind you – still hills, not proper mountains) on the southeast above Kelowna. It is a mixture of grassland and small patches of wooded area with pines and shrubs. Human habitation is ever encroaching there, as people build more and more monstrous mansions higher and higher. Still, I hiked higher and further. At a certain spot, traversing a deep gully with very steep sides I have noticed a narrow trail from the bottom to the other side. As the gass was half frozen and numerous patches os snow made it slippery, I gladly took that narrow trail. I realized quickly that it was narrow for a good reason – it was not made by other hikers but by animals. The only marks I found were those of coyotes and very distinctive footprints of a bear. As the slopes were very steep, I couldn’t see what was on the other side and ascertain how fresh the footprints were. My chances of running very quickly on that terrain were rather slim. But today our paths did not cross… , LOL. I followed, were I could, old existing trails: aptly named Hoodoo Trail, Coyote Trail and Grassland Trail. In parts – mostly it was just the grassland and the trails appeared and disappeared under the grass and snow.

The view from these hills toward the city far away and the mountains above me was just amazing. An eagle was screeching angrily at me – go home! And laughingly I yelled back at him: never you mind, I will not bother you, go away! Which he did flown away from hi s nest on one of the tall pines. The eagle also gave sign that a true spectacle was just about to begin: the absolutely stunning sunset on the west side and almost full moon on the east. It was something to behold. Hope my camera captured part of it. Enjoy.

Blask Warszawy

fotografie: Janina Zwierzchowska; tekst: B. Pacak-Gamalski

Kiedyś, przed wieloma laty, lubiana i popularna wówczas piosenkarka Rena Rolska śpiewała:

Długą, potem Freta
Między kramy, prosto w ramy Canaletta
W pejzaż malowany
W urok zapomniany, warszawski czas
Konie jabłkowite
Bladym, sennym świtem powiozą nas

Piosenka nosiła tytuł “Fantazja warszawska”. Gdy Janina przesłała mi swoje zdjęcia z jej spaceru z kamerą po Starówce, po Krakowskim, Nowym Świecie, przy Pałacu Kultury – ta piosenka, ta melodia natychmiast grała mi w duszy. Tyle już lat temu, dekady gdy słuchałem jej w odbiorniku radiowym, A ileż razy wiele lat później, gdy z mojej Warszawy wyjechałem, nuciłem ją sam sobie … Wiec, gdy te magiczne zdjęcia zobaczyłem, pomyślałem: co za piękny poemat fotograficzny tego przepięknego miasta. Warszawa moich lat nie była taka piękna, jak dziś. Nie była prawdziwą metropolią Europy, jaką jest teraz. Ale Stare Miasto, Krakowskie Przedmieście i Szlak Królewski pozwalał nam wtedy zapominać o szarzyźnie i brudzie socrealizmu. A teraz … tęsknić. Tak, jak tęskniły generacje tych, co wyjechali z wielu powodów. Do czego? Do miasta tylko? Chyba nie tylko – tęsknili do atmosfery, do swojej kawiarni, do przyjaźni i miłości młodości. Kawiarnia warszawska, ach, godzinami o niej mówić można. Każdy jakąś swoją lub swojej paczki przyjaciół miał. Tak, jak K.I. Gałczyński wspominał jego i jego przyjaciół kawiarnię “Zodiak” w wierszu ‘Warszawianie”‘

Nasi warszawiacy frontem do ulicy
siedzą i pijąc kawę z miną tajemniczą;
szepczą o Rzeczycy, Horzycy, Wolicy
oraz Gombrowiczu i Kurnakowiczu. ^{(fragment )}

Ale starczy obrazów malowanych słowami. Teraz te prawdziwe, Fotoreportaż Czaru w obiektywie Janiny Zwierzchowskiej

Back to the trails in 2025 around Kelowna

Bogumil Pacak-Gamalski

Being the last day of the last year I went yesterday for a longer walk afternoon. Not far, maybe five kilometers, to the base of Toovey Hill in Kelowna. On the walk there I met a wonderful iron biker hurrying up to chase off the old year and bring the new one. And he did (as most of you I hope noticed, LOL – it is 2025).

But today the New Year is here. Why not – lets continue that walk started yesterday. And take our two dogs (Roko and Czorcik) along for that walk. We did. But why finish where I stopped last night? No point – newer should be better, shouldn’t it? Czorcik (pronounced Chorcheek which means exactly that in Polish – a little devil) being that tiny devil. agreed, LOL.

We went to the bottom of the hill, crossed a busy Highway 33 and ended up by little church and pond there. We went there once before, I recall at that time was still warm Fall, pond was full od ducks and definitely not frozen. Not today, tough. Today it was solidly frozen. I asked loudly: shall we go back home? Simultaneously we both replied: nah, what for? Let’s go further.

And we did. A lovely old windy road settled between orchards and farmhouses took us all the way to the beginning of Mission Creek Park. A park we know both very well, as we walked and hiked there twice. I posted here short photographic memories of the first trip_[i].

Here are some more of the pictures from the other end of Mission Creek forest, the less travelled, definitely not touristy road.

_{[i] Urban Mission Creek Park and a lake on high mountain in wilderness of Okanagan, BC. – > > Pogwarki < <}

An ode to Stanley Park

Bogumil Pacak-Gamalski

There is a place full of magic. Place that deserves an ode, a poem. But a poem that you, the Reader, will have to write using your own words. I will just offer you some imagery captured on camera during my last visit to Vancouver ( a city full of its own magic and beauty). Therefore, without further ado, let me take you for a walk through that magical place.

Spacer cienia – Walk of a shadow

Bogumił Pacak-Gamalski

Chodzę moimi ulicami, zaglądam do moich kawiarenek. Do Naszych Miejsc. Uśmiecham się do mijanych ludzi, rozmawiam nawet z nimi.

Nagle spostrzegam, że jestem cieniem. Spoza ich świata, poza nimi, obok. Nie, nie umykam chyłkiem, jak złodziejaszek kieszonkowy, jak przemytnik. Ale przenikam między nimi jak cień właśnie. Taki nie całkiem materialny.

Siedzę teraz w jednym z pokoików naszego Queer Community Centre^[i] na rogu Davie and Bute. Lubiłem tu przychodzić. Sam, z Johnem. Taki dom poza domem. To tu był pierwszy w historii nowożytnych olimpiad oficjalny Gay Olympic Pawilon (Pride House)^[ii]. Po tamtej Olimpiadzie takie Pawilony stały się normą sankcjonowaną przez MKO (Międzynarodowy Komitet Olimpijski). Uroczy recepcjonista wita mnie z uśmiechem i pyta czy ma mnie oprowadzić. Uśmiecham się, znam tu przecież każdy pokoik i zakamarek; przesuwam się bezszelestnie (cienie robią to świetnie) korytarzykami do jednego ze znajomych pokoi, siadam przy stoliku, otwieram notatnik i piszę właśnie te słowa.

Nałkowska używała w swoich Dziennikach często ten zwrot przy kolejnych wpisach: i znów zaszła zmiana w polu mojego widzenia. Ale tu teraz to nie pasuje. To ja – patrzący – przeszedłem zmianę. Stałem się przeźroczystym cieniem.

Ile jest takich cieni spacerujących ulicami? Czy mijam ich sam na skrzyżowaniach nie zauważając nawet? Może moja transformacja jest jeszcze za świeża, jeszcze nie zadomowiła się w mojej świadomości? Niełatwo, bo jeszcze słyszę stuk mojej laseczki i uderzenia cholewek na krawężniku trotuaru.

(English version)

It has been so peaceful and pleasant for the first few days here. Here – back to Our Home, Vancouver. You walked with me; you held my hand. At times – it seemed – you placed a kiss on my cheek.

But it changed abruptly. I noticed it on my second trip to Downtown Vancouver. I was alone. You were nowhere to be seen, to be touched. You were gone. As I know that you are.

Today I ventured closer to our first home on Capitol Hill in Burnaby, as I went to Commercial Drive in East Van.

Commercial is a lovely stretch of space between Hasting and Boadway, that contains people, their laughter, neighborly shopping in plentiful little shops, cafes. It is also a perfect mix of rich and poorer, accountants, architects and artists and artisans. Went to the Cultch Theater – the last play I have seen there years ago was a very good adaptation of “Waiting for Godot”, we went there to see it together, with You.

Stopped by Your favored shop on the corner of Commercial and Venables. Later I had sweets and excellent coffee in one of the cafes.

I looked everywhere. In vain. It came to me in a physical, sharp pain. As if something heavy and cold penetrated my heart. Something that screamed at me angrily: he is not here! He is gone! Oh, I so wanted to pick up a street fight with that screaming ugly IT, have even raised my walking stick a bit, was ready to shout back at IT: you are a liar! He is here, with me!

But there was no one around to scream at. The Screamer was not material, was invisible. But it was loud and clear.

You attempt to re-fight battles that you have had already lost is always futile.

^{[i] qmunity.ca}

^{[ii] 2010 Olympic + Paralympic Games, Vancouver + Whistler, Canada | Pride House International}

December walk through Ladner

Bogumił Pacak-Gamalski

There are big metropolis like Rome, New York, Vancouver, Paris; there are big cities, major centres of commerce, trade, culture; and there are small towns. These towns are often unknown little gems, picturesque, quaint. Known only to their residents, and few neighboring, equally small communities.

Such is Ladner in British Columbia Lower Mainland. It is actually located near a major artery leading to largest Ferry Terminal connecting Vancouver to Vancouver Island – but hardly anyone from these travelers stop in this little historic town.

It is a charming community. There are buses here, but the truth is that once you are inside – you can get anywhere by foot or biking. Have been here numerous times years ago, when I lived in Vancouver. Now I have come back for a few days to stay with some friends. And did that picturesque walk with my camera. Summer is of course preferable time. But beginning of December offers the chance to see the Christmas lights and decorations. Sometime it feels (after dark especially) like you are in a fairy tale. Here are some pictures from the historic centre of it.