The Black Country is the true heart of the UK

Dudley, Halesowen, Stourbridge, the forgotten towns of England, yet this is where it all began; in the Black Country. Often mistaken for Birmingham, this industrial region is the heart of the country.

You’ve spent years justifying where you’re from, explaining to ignorant ears how it’s near Birmingham, but no, it’s definitely NOT Birmingham. You’re sick and tired of the mighty Black Country not getting the recognition it so desperately deserves, and we’re proud to call it home.

The Black Country Museum

Aka the best museum in the world. You couldn’t get enough school trips here, and you don’t even mind if you can’t get a two for one voucher: it’s worth it. You’ll take a trip down the mine (it never ceases to amaze you how those heroes worked in those conditions), visit the old lady who lives in the wonky Victorian house before going to the classroom for a lesson with the really scary teacher with the cane. You’ll then spend the afternoon stroking the shire horses and playing hopscotch in the street, before treating yourself to some proper fish and chips, served in newspaper and cooked in beef dripping. If only they had a hotel there, you’d never leave.

The number 9

Not wanting to approach the hell hole that is Birmingham city centre’s road network by car, a trip into the city involved the number 9. Many hours were spent on this bus, trudging into Birmingham. The fun of the journey came in not knowing how long it was going to take you to get anywhere. Would it be half an hour?  Would it be 45 minutes? Could it actually take longer than an hour?

Merry Hell

Never has a shopping centre been so divided as Merry Hill. Up by Topshop you’ll find the Mean Girls of King Edward’s College gagging for a job so they can get an even bigger discount on their basic af wardrobe. Stroll over to BHS and you’ll find tragic moms (yes, mom) fishing out their Sunday best and buying school uniform for their even more tragic children. If you can brave the Asda end, you’ll see the entirety of the Kingsway walking round with McDonald’s cups in hand. Everyone meets in the middle at Eat Central – let the battle commence.

You go to The Bullring for a fancy day out

You know you’re having a Big Day Out when a trip to Birmingham is thrown into the mix. It’ll involve splitting off when you get to The Bullring so you can see everything, followed by lunch at “some place nice” like Café Rouge or TGI Fridays if you can be arsed to trek up Hagley Road. You took a day trip to Grand Central when it opened and mom got incredibly excited about the new John Lewis:”It doesn’t even feel like a station does it? It’s like just an added bonus you stumble across!”

But glare at anyone who dares say you’re from Birmingham

How many times do we have to say it? We are not from Birmingham.

We have more canals than Venice

Although the glorious city of Venice is renowned for its canals and cute little bridges, it actually only has about 26 miles of canals. The Black Country, in comparison, has 34. The canals were essential during the Industrial Revolution for transporting coal and other raw materials, but if you want to really enjoy the canals, head to Stourport. It’s the Blackpool of the Midlands.

You’re never short of a pub to go to

The infamous Wollaston bar crawl from The Plough Inn on Bridgnorth Road, usually ending in Chicago’s in Stourbridge, is an initiation in Black Country life. You’ll meet all sorts of friendly characters along the way, and nothing beats a round for a fiver in The Red Lion on Brettell Lane. Good ale and good people: what more could you want?

True Black Country folk support Albion, not Wolves or Villa

Boing boing.

We’re really proud of our heritage

There’s a reason it’s called the Black Country, and it’s all to do with our heritage. It was the heart of the Industrial Revolution, with everything from coal mining, coking, steel mills and iron foundries contributing to the soot which buried the region – hence its name.

The A449 is the worst road EVER

Why is it so long? Why is it so slow? Why do I have to keep stopping at all these stupid mini roundabouts and traffic lights and change speed and stop and start and oh my god why am I suddenly in Wolverhampton get me out.

You’d pretend to be from Wolverhampton Girls’ School to get into Oldswinford Hospital School parties

Once a term, the OSH disco came around. You’d get your best outfit on and giggle with your sister about how you might finally bag yourself a yummy OSH boy your mom would be proud of. You’d queue up as Tom Novy’s I Don’t Want Nobody blasted out, nervously anticipating the foam. You’d finally get to the front after necking a cheeky vodka coke for courage and blurt out “we’re from Wolverhampton Girls’ School” (obviously state school girls were not allowed). The night would end up with you snogging the guy your mate got with last term in the corner, before your friend’s parents picked you up at 9pm and you went back to theirs for a sleepover.

Tinnies in Mary Steven’s Park was literally your childhood

Friday nights and the park was swamped with kids from the local comprehensives necking a few Fosters before heading back to someone’s house on Sheraton Grange if their parents were away. You’d put Panic! At The Disco on your Sony Ericsson and subtly nod along while the boys took their tops off and played football.

Everyone hated The Grange

Sorry, Pedmore Technology College.

When they built Tesco in Cradley, it changed your life

It’s just so big. And the car park is so smooth. They even have a Wetherspoons nearby. You can buy anything there. You can play hide and seek in there. It’s right by the train station as well. This is just a game changer.

You made friends with anyone from Pedmore immediately

They have bigger houses, their parents had islands in their kitchen and they had a trampoline in their garden. Who cares if it means sucking up to chubby Faye? If you get a go on that trampoline and a session at the tennis club every now and again, it really is a win-win situation.

This is our accent, and we’re proud