Gentility
Sojourning in Kowloon without a justifiable purpose is heresy. A jolly dinner invitation at the Caryle & Co. or a dash to Monkok out of sheer touristic itch is plausibly tolerable. Yet my professed love for Hong Kong never truly crosses the harbour to Tsim Sha Tsui, the terminus of the obsolete Kowloon-Canton railway where the British Imperialist facade and the Walled City ghetto entwine discordantly at the tip of the peninsula.
In spite of the colonialism gargoyle and populace grotesque since the beginning of the 20th century, Kowloon has much transformed and conjured the occidental adventurism and oriental advancement. Wonders and whimsicality weave the superlative hospitality scene of the dockside, the grandiose Rosewood, the exuberant Carlyle, and the posh Regent breathe a heavy gen Z gentility accent and attracts the drove of fashionable dignitaries. Still, none can rival the Peninsula, the crown jewel of the Gadoories, and the famed landmark of the Far East.
My sentiment for The Peninsula has never been akin to cordiality as for the Mandarin. A few stays in the Paris and Bangkok affiliates are underwhelming and dotted with serial operational mishaps that eventually attenuate my whim to check-in the iconic and imposing Peninsula Hong Kong. This ornate and Italianate grande dame exudes contemporary and timeless luxury of the heritage grandeur and modern panache, also the sweeping, unhindered view of the beaconing Central from the Art Deco themed suite. The Peninsula Hong Kong, without questions, is tailored for me in Kowloon and entails no disappointment to complete my collection of all legendary grandes dames in Asia. So I click open the hotel website last minute before depature for Jonnas Kaufmann’s gala performance.
Generallisima
On entering the arrival hall of the airport, a gentle lady greets me with the Peninsula Hotel sign and a warm, genuine smile. I am then ushered to the limousine salon where the lady chauffeur, Connie, in her smart and crisp uniform awaits and opens the heavy door of the emerald colour Rolls-Royce, which would be soon replaced by even posher Bentley coated with the emblematic Peninsula green.
The dandy vehicle speeds up quietly, and the pleasant chitchat with Connie enlivens the mood. Soon we drive on the Salisbury Road and pool next to the vivant fountain. The entire concierge and the hotel manager, Patrick, congregate before the iconic deity mural glass or the Door Gods with impeccable civility and hospitality. “Welcome to the Peninsula Hong Kong, Dr. Wan. We hope the grande dame will be your one and only address in Kowloon.” Patrick says as he leads me into the dimmed yet elegant corso style vestibule.
The entire concierge then escorts me into one of the original elevators. The carriage ascends with audible jazz music from the mezzanine floor, cheery and clubby. I notice the majority of senior colleagues are impeccably capable women, a sign of advancement. From the entry-level Deluxe room tier up to the palatial Peninsula Suite, rooms are plush, uncluttered and stately, with an overarching homely feel.
My deluxe suite is at the end of a varnished monochromic corridor. Without much hustle, the in-room check-in completes in a bliss, then I am bestowed with the unparallel hospitality with my favorite beverages – coke zero and sparkling water. Technology and aesthetic align in the roomy suite. Every drawer, cupboard and button are discreetly labelled, so there shall be no endless searching for the hairdryer. “Your garments delivered from the Mandarin are all well steamed and prepared. They are set in the wardrobe according to your preference”, says the chief guest relationship manger Tiffany as she tours me through the vanity area. I am also in awe to learn about an entire team dedicated to integrating technological elements into the 300 rooms– wireless charging and USB ports are installed on the nightstands, large Smart televisions discreetly hidden, panels to control air conditioning, lighting and curtains, and tablets to request every conceivable necessity or meet late night whims for snacks. All of this is done without losing a jot of the presiding sense of elegance. Bathroom is finished in swathes of white and dark green marble, and feature a separate tub, walk-in shower, and loos. A tray of various essential oil blends is ready for bathing after turndown.
Guardian
At twilight moment, a mail from the box office declares the unforeseen and unfortunate cancelation due to the health condition of the tenor. I then decide to invite my Hongkie set for a dinner at the suite. I flip through the in-room dining menu on the tablet and order a healthy and delicious dinner: seared salmon, sushi omakase set, and fires. The butler buzzes the door and wheels the trolley next to the 20s style Chrisopher Guy dining table. Placements and cutleries are then placed immaculately orderly as if the Duchess of Dorset would be expected. To my amazement, the doneness of the salmon is just perfect with lush salads, the sushi nigiris are to die for, and the fries can burn your lips. The serendipitous novelty of such an haute treatment and gentry style services impress my discerning guests, a mesmerizing gift from the grande dame who has guarded the finest genus of the Asian hospitality tradition. The Peninsula is every inch a majestic generalissma.
The night is yet tender, I retire into the cozy chaise and start to reck on the sojourn. I confide to myself, now a return to Kowloon is justifiable: the Peninsula.
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Cover：Joseph Wan
Author：Joseph Wan
Photo：Joseph Wan/@peninsulahongkong
