“Peninsula”. Doesn’t sound bad at all. Not only that, it was so cheap that I could afford to buy a couple of dinners with the difference between the price I was expecting to pay and what the guy had said. As I was on the phone, memories of the Hong Kong Peninsula Hotel suddenly came to me. Stately, dark green Rolls-Royces in front of the entrance, side-by-side, much like two battleships floating in a naval port. I admired them so many times as I walked eastward from the Star Ferry landing dock to Kowloon. There was one time that I thought about joining a throng of tourists to an afternoon tea. However, lining up for tens of minutes in order to enjoy slowly sipping tea is absurdly defeating the purpose. And being the kind of person who would say, “The money spent on scones and tea is much better spent on eating crab or duck”, it seems appropriate that I’ve never had the opportunity to stay or eat at the Peninsula, although I have borrowed the restrooms once.

There is also a Peninsula Hotel in Tokyo, but despite a certain broadcasting station located right across the street and having the occasion to pass right in front of it dozens of times, I’ve never even ventured in their lobby to have a coffee.

I imagine how gorgeous, elegant and refined the “Singapore Peninsula” must be, my mind mapping a towering building about 100 meters ahead to the left. However, there stands a building that, although evidently upper-end, has unexpectedly shabby decor and from all appearances, looks like a standard hotel used for business trips.

I suppose, though… There are in fact many hotels around the world with modest exteriors and elegant interiors. Historic hotels in Tokyo that were built during the Showa period are not particularly impressive or commanding. The Imperial Hotel is a case in point. People have prepared a variety of words such as “classic”, “heritage”, “wabisabi” to extol old buildings; but whether it is a car, movie or fashion, what was “high-class” during a half-baked era looks tacky and cheap compared to what was “ultra- classical” during its time.

I step through the entrance and head to the lobby on the 2nd floor. I check in at the front desk and sign my name. “My bags are light so I’ll take them up myself”, I say. In the elevator I push the button for my floor. I arrive at my floor and walk down the corridor. I turn the key, and open the door to my room.

…I don’t get it. I place my luggage on the rack and, even after I’ve gone to the bathroom and wiped the light sweat from my face, I still feel like the Peninsula Hotel is only “so-so”.

I look at the Peninsula logo printed on the hotel toiletries. This is unmistakably the Peninsula Hotel. There I stood and quickly turned the meaning of “peninsula” over in my mind.

“Peninsula”. …a “cape”. …a “peninsula”.

A country located on the southern tip of the Malay “peninsula”. Singapore

…Oh, I get it.

I step out of the bathroom and sit on the bed. The TV is on and as I listen in surprise to a commercial narrated in Chinese by a voice that sounds startling like my own, I am suddenly struck by a realization. This hotel is not “The Peninsula Hotel”, it is

“Peninsula Hotel” = “peninsula + hotel”.

There is no reason why a “Miura Peninsula Hotel” shouldn’t exist near Misaki Port on the Miura Peninsula. It seems completely logical. And that was it.

Yes, to be able to go to sleep wrapped in the sheets of Asia’s pinnacle hotel at this rate, the world was a sweet place.

I’d like to add just one thing. I am saying this in order to preserve the good name of this “Peninsula Hotel”, it was in no way a “bad” or “cheap-looking” hotel. If you were to categorize the world’s hotels into “ultra-luxurious”, “luxurious”, “standard”, “shabby” and “horrific”, then there would be no question that it belonged in the “luxurious” category. In front of the lobby was a light blue, sparkling glassed-in pool that had a working waterfall. Even though my room was just a standard room, it was about 40 sq. meters. It was twice as spacious as a Japanese hotel geared for business travelers. I was simply contrasting it to the incredible grandeur that I saw at the Peninsula in Hong Kong. That’s all.

“Peninsula Hotel”.

A fine name.

As I looked down upon the illuminated, sparkling light-blue pool, I was suddenly hit by hunger.

I changed into my favorite pair of camo shorts and, with dignity and confidence, I exited the the famous “peninsula hotel” to venture into the 29°C heat for a late night on the town.