The Peninsula opened in 1928 and still runs a fleet of Rolls-Royces for airport transfers, and that sets the tone before you've checked in: eight staff meeting the car, keys already in hand, a seat by the window to watch the harbour light show while your bags disappear. The building is the argument here — marble columns, a mezzanine orchestra, a lobby that still feels grand rather than staged. Rooms lean older in bones but not in fittings: iPad controls, a plumbed-in espresso machine, a Dyson dryer, and in at least one case a firm mattress that got a pillow-top added within minutes of a guest mentioning it.
Where it gets uneven is exactly where you'd worry about a 100-year-old building: the bathrooms. One recent stay reported visible mold and a shower head that came loose and struck the guest, with housekeeping never following through on the fix. That's not the only account of the hotel's age showing through, and a late-night arrival once got no help with bags and vague directions to a room on the opposite side of the floor. The afternoon tea has also changed — long-time regulars say the added minimum spend has turned a treat into a transaction, and more than one now goes to Rosewood or Regent instead. None of this is universal; most reports describe service that anticipates what you need before you ask, right down to a handwritten anniversary card from the Director of Front Office.
Book it for Spring Moon, the harbour-facing pool, and a lobby that still means something in a city full of newer towers. Skip it if you want a fully modernized bathroom or you're picky about afternoon tea etiquette — the newer Kowloon and Central hotels will match the polish without the history tax.