The Fred Hotel

As I’m about to go to sleep, knowing I’ll be checking out tomorrow, I feel compelled to write this. I never write reviews. I travel constantly for work and life, and hotels have just become stopovers, nothing more. But when you can feel the love someone has poured into a place, when they’ve clearly chosen not to play it safe, it deserves to be acknowledged. The Fred is exactly that kind of place. It’s not just a hotel. It’s a story. A love letter to Lahore. A reminder of what happens when people genuinely care about what they create. Lahore is my hometown, though it hasn’t been home for a long time. I’ve stayed at almost every hotel here. The colonial ones, which, though once grand, are now inconvenient and fading. And the newer, flashier ones that offer polish without warmth, luxury without intention. The Fred is different. You notice it before you even walk in, with its red brick exterior, as you should in Lahore. Inside, the chips flooring takes you straight back to our grandparents’ homes. The kind once thought old or boring, now made effortlessly cool. Even the scent in the air feels like Lahore. Not imported vanilla or oud. Nothing trying too hard. The lobby is super cool. There’s this quiet conversation between past and present happening all around you. Purposely distressed carpets. Vintage bikes. The faded, nostalgic footage playing on the wall, showing the Lahore of the past that built the city around us. Even the elevators, which in most hotels are just elevators, turn into part of the experience. The art is everywhere, thoughtfully chosen and never generic or mass-produced. Every piece makes you pause and look a little longer. The Polymath downstairs has a creative, laid-back vibe. Upstairs, Gaijin serves very nice Japanese food. I didn’t try The Observatory, but it was always full. And then there are the rooms. Wicker chairs. Netflix and automated lights where you need them, but never at the expense of character. The beds are incredible. The bathrooms are modern and spacious, with rain showers and amenities that feel almost custom-made. The scents are earthy and cool, and though I don’t know what brand they use, they feel high-end and international. My complaint with most hotel bathrooms, all over the world actually, has always been that they are often designed by men, with very little thought given to how women get ready. These bathrooms don’t have that problem. Even in the smaller rooms, which I took a look at, the counter spaces are generous, the vanity areas are spacious and well-lit, and the mirrors are large. They are genuinely comfortable, which is rare. And even here, they’ve kept the nod to the past with purposely cracked walls and stone floors that remind you of the homes we grew up in. Nothing feels random. Everything feels intentional. It’s the little touches that stay with you. The pen and notepad, even the his and her slippers, each with small, creative details. They’ve even thought of insomniacs like me, offerin