🔗 Share this article

Every 20 minutes or so, an older diesel-powered railway carriage pulls into a graffiti-covered station. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm pierces the near-constant road noise. Commuters hurry past falling apart, ivy-draped fencing panels as rain clouds gather.

This is maybe the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established grape-growing plot. However one local grower has managed to four dozen established plants sagging with plump mauve berries on a rambling garden plot sandwiched between a row of historic homes and a commuter railway just above the city downtown.

"I've seen individuals hiding illegal substances or other items in those bushes," says Bayliss-Smith. "Yet you simply continue ... and keep tending to your vines."

The cameraman, 46, a documentary cameraman who runs a kombucha drinks business, is among several local vintner. He's organized a loose collective of growers who produce vintage from several hidden urban vineyards tucked away in back gardens and allotments throughout Bristol. It is sufficiently underground to possess an official name so far, but the collective's messaging chat is called Vineyard Dreams.

Urban Wine Gardens Across the World

So far, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the sole location registered in the Urban Vineyards Association's forthcoming global directory, which includes better-known urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the hillsides of Paris's historic artistic district neighbourhood and more than three thousand grapevines with views of and within Turin. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the vanguard of a movement re-establishing urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking countries, but has identified them all over the globe, including cities in East Asia, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.

"Grape gardens help urban areas stay greener and more diverse. These spaces preserve open space from development by creating long-term, productive agricultural units within cities," explains the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those produced in cities are a result of the soils the vines grow in, the vagaries of the climate and the people who care for the grapes. "Each vintage embodies the charm, community, environment and heritage of a urban center," notes the president.

Mystery Polish Grapes

Returning to the city, the grower is in a urgent timeline to gather the grapevines he cultivated from a cutting left in his allotment by a Polish family. If the rain arrives, then the birds may seize their chance to feast once more. "This is the enigmatic Polish variety," he says, as he removes bruised and mouldy grapes from the glistering bunches. "The variety remains uncertain their exact classification, but they're definitely hardy. In contrast to premium grapes – Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and additional renowned European varieties – you don't have to treat them with chemicals ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was bred by the Eastern Bloc."

Group Efforts Across Bristol

The other members of the group are additionally making the most of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. On the terrace with views of the city's glistening harbour, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with barrels of wine from Europe and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is harvesting her dark berries from about fifty vines. "I love the aroma of the grapevines. It is so evocative," she says, stopping with a container of grapes resting on her shoulder. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you open the vehicle windows on vacation."

The humanitarian worker, 52, who has devoted more than 20 years working for charitable groups in conflict zones, inadvertently inherited the vineyard when she returned to the UK from East Africa with her household in recent years. She felt an strong responsibility to maintain the vines in the yard of their recently acquired property. "This plot has previously endured three different owners," she explains. "I really like the concept of natural stewardship – of passing this on to future caretakers so they continue producing from this land."

Sloping Vineyards and Traditional Winemaking

Nearby, the final two members of the group are busily laboring on the precipitous slopes of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has cultivated more than one hundred fifty vines perched on ledges in her expansive property, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she says, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing grapevine lines in a urban neighborhood."

Currently, Scofield, 60, is picking bunches of dusty purple Rondo grapes from lines of plants slung across the cliff-side with the help of her daughter, Luca. The conservationist, a documentary producer who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was inspired to cultivate vines after observing her neighbor's grapevines. She's discovered that hobbyists can make intriguing, pleasurable natural wine, which can sell for upwards of £7 a glass in the increasing quantity of wine bars focusing on minimal-intervention vintages. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly make quality, natural wine," she says. "It's very fashionable, but really it's reviving an traditional method of producing vintage."

"During foot-stomping the fruit, all the wild yeasts come off the surfaces and enter the liquid," says the winemaker, partially submerged in a bucket of small branches, pips and crimson juice. "That's how wines were historically produced, but commercial producers introduce sulphur [dioxide] to kill the natural cultures and subsequently add a lab-grown culture."

Difficult Environments and Inventive Approaches

In the immediate vicinity sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who motivated his neighbor to establish her vines, has gathered his friends to pick Chardonnay grapes from one hundred plants he has laid out neatly across two terraces. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who taught at Bristol University cultivated an interest in viticulture on regular visits to France. But it is a difficult task to cultivate this particular variety in the humidity of the gorge, with cooling tides sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I wanted to produce Burgundian wines in this location, which is a bit bonkers," says Reeve with amusement. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and very sensitive to fungal infections."

"My goal was creating European-style vintages in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"

The temperamental local weather is not the sole problem encountered by winegrowers. The gardener has been compelled to install a fence on