The Peninsula London Good taste – but at a price

Mark C O’Flaherty checks in to see if this ‘universe of absolute luxury’ is really worth the hype

First things first: if you have to ask how much, it’s not for you. You can mock all you like. Given the weird dystopian time we live in, when you need to scan your receipt to get past security in Sainsbury’s, news of a five-star hotel opening in London with the cheapest room starting at £1,300 a night might be something of a surprise. The Peninsula is closely followed by Raffles at the Old War Office, with second Mandarin Oriental and Rosewood London hotels due in the next two years, plus a St Regis, and a fourth opening from the Maybourne group, which owns Claridge’s.

But here we are, and here it is, and it’s really busy. When I was there last week, almost every table in the lobby was occupied for the £95-a-head afternoon tea, with Peninsula-branded champagne flowing, and tables laden with dishes of green-pea mousse topped with Oscietra caviar and incredibly sculpted edible honey pots filled with crème brulée, pineapple and bee pollen.

The Peninsula in London has hit the ground running, powered by international guests who are obsessed with the brand. Like Taylor Swift and her tickets, they can name their price: there’s more demand than supply and no one involved in this food chain cares if you think it’s exorbitantly priced.

But, while this is a universe of absolute luxury, it’s also one of genuinely good taste. Peter Marino has created a sober interior that looks grown up. It reminds me of the Tokyo Peninsula – where the décor is chic but timeless; a little retro, even. There are marble bathrooms galore and everything is high-tech to the point of science fiction, but there are also low-key landscape paintings by artists from the Royal Drawing School. All the doors are heavy. Everything feels like it cost an absolute fortune.

This is a military-scale operation, run with incredible precision. Whoever is looking after HR has worked magic. Each employee is beaming with delight at being here, dashing around in pristine white uniforms topped off with chin-strapped pillbox caps. Such is the attention to detail at the hotel that the beading on the hats is echoed in the way the pats of butter are moulded before they arrive with your toast in the morning.

I stayed in an “entry level” room which was bigger than my flat, with a view directly onto Wellington Arch. The bathtub has a digital pad next to it featuring a spa mode, which immediately softens the lighting, activates “do not disturb” and plays appropriately chilled music. Things I didn’t use: the nail dryer and the in-room scanner and printer. Things I used a lot: the myriad power points and wireless charging pads scattered around in places where you’d instinctively want them.

When I visited, the rooftop restaurant and spa were still imminent. I did get to take a look around Brooklands, the forthcoming Claude Bosi dining room that takes its inspiration from the history of British motoring and aviation and runs with it to almost ludicrous lengths: there’s an actual Concorde nose in the hallway and tables made out of giant headlights. The Peninsula is big on fancy automobiles, a focus that predates Brooklands. One of the biggest selling points is the fleet of BMW and Rolls-Royce cars at every hotel to ferry guests around. This is a world way beyond UberLUX.

I had dinner in Canton Blue, in the basement. I’d eaten the chef ’s food at the Peninsula Paris years ago, and the dim sum and Beijing duck was as I remembered. There are little booths for two, decorated with brightly coloured ceramics and partially hidden behind glass screens – pure Wong Kar-Wai romance. The bar downstairs, Little Blue, with an interior that riffs on antique luggage and Chinese medicine shops, is just as pretty.

You can get a slice of the new Peninsula for a modest investment. What was once the most profitable Pret a Manger in the country is now the Peninsula Boutique & Café, which serves some of the best croissants in London. It’s also a good bet for frivolous gift shopping – there are trays of chocolates, shelves full of Peninsula fizz and white-chocolate scale replicas of the iconic Peninsula Chinese lions for £13 a feline. If you can’t afford a room, you can still spend one per cent of the cost on one of the hotel’s sweetest details.

Doubles from £1,300, room only. There are eight accessible rooms and two accessible suites

Whoever is looking after HR has worked magic. Each employee is beaming with delight at being here

g ‘A military-scale operation’: Wellington Arch can be seen from some of the rooms