LONDON CALLING

Thirty years in the making, The Peninsula opened its newest property in the British capital this year. Tatler takes a closer look 

- Victoria Burrows

With one spin, the revolving doors to the lobby of The Peninsula W London sweep me from traffic and noise to a world of silver teapots and soft carpets, tinkling piano and crystal chandeliers.

The two white stone guardian lions outside had already set off a glow of nostalgia; inside the lobby, I feel a warm rush of familiarity: the spirit of the SAR's Grande Dame is here in Belgravia, among the potted palms and pillars, the pages in their smart uniforms, and the friendly smiles.

London's lobby may be more contemporary, with clean lines on its Portuguese limestone columns, and coral red chairs adding colour to a space that is largely white, but the atmosphere evokes a similar cocoon of ease to The Peninsula Hong Kong.

When I am shown to my room, I am reminded that I am in England. The view floods in through the tall windows—the Wellington Arch, originally built as an entrance to Buckingham Palace, with its impressive Angel of Peace descending on the Quadriga, or fourhorsed chariot, of War. I am surprised by how close the arch seems, and the unobstructed view, framed by curtains of champagne-hued and subtly embroidered silk, makes me feel like it is all my own.

My room, by American architect Peter Marino, has a contemporary elegance with its unobtrusive palette of sandstone, cream and brown. Details are textural: there are geometric arrangements in the carpet pile, furnishings are plush, and there is an almost shelllike feel to the walls. The spacious bathroom, with The Peninsula’s customary double sinks and giant bathtub, is a serene vision in marbled honey onyx, while the dressing room is panelled in mahogany as a nod to nearby Savile Row tailors.