Derived from its medieval name “soily hill”, it is clear the irony is not lost on many of the residents due to the amount of scum and dirt around the place.
I grew up in Soli-hell Solihull and have seen the drastic devolution of its culture, atmosphere and quaint charm.
From the time the Burberry tracksuited monster that is Birmingham began engulfing Solihull there was only going to be one winner.
I have many fond memories of the area from my childhood; farmers markets, a quiet pedestrianised street, even feeding the ducks and wildlife in Bruton and Malvern parks but now…
…the only wildlife in the area is attempting to balance a nike baseball cap on its chavvy little head, stained tracksuit bottoms halfway down its arse, sitting on (and at the same time vandalising) every possible bench in the high street, depriving the elderly of a resting place while queen chavette attempts to “blag” a pasty from the staple food outlet that is Greggs for little baby Eminem.
Not a single day goes by where the once quiet town centre isn’t packed to the rafters with louts and layabouts either thieving or sitting outside weatherspoons hurling abuse at any unsuspecting passer by.
The nights however…oh you’ll love the evenings (if you like unhinged, unreserved and unnecessary violence). whenever I venture into Solihull in the evening I have taken to taking a torch with me, not because its dark mind, just to see the confused look on a young chav’s face when, fag in mouth, he asks for a light. Is there any more beautiful sight than the expression on a young chav’s face who is so confused and so unaware of the fact he has had the piss severely taken that his head may explode?
Like the rest we too have our fare share of Mc Lovin it, the inevitable 5 Greggs per square metre and the explosion of “everything you will never need but will buy because you are a stupid cheap chav and it’s a pound” shops
So, come to Solihull if you fancy picking up your teeth with a broken arm whilst being spat at and never actually managing to have a decent night out because there’s only so many times you can sit next to chav family living it up, in their Sunday best (by which I mean their black tracksuits and white t-shirt) having a “posh” meal at nando’s claiming “oh it feels like we’z in mawbaya init”
Being educated and living in Solihull can make you feel like an eagle amongst weasels but sadly…
Eagles fly high but weasels don’t get sucked into jet engines