🔗 Share this article

Each 20 minutes or so, an older diesel train arrives at a spray-painted stop. Close by, a law enforcement alarm pierces the near-constant road noise. Daily travelers hurry past collapsing, ivy-draped fencing panels as rain clouds gather.

It is maybe the least likely spot you expect to find a perfectly formed grape-growing plot. However James Bayliss-Smith has cultivated four dozen established plants heavy with plump mauve berries on a rambling allotment situated between a line of 1930s houses and a commuter railway just north of the city downtown.

"I've noticed individuals concealing illegal substances or whatever in those bushes," says Bayliss-Smith. "Yet you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your vines."

Bayliss-Smith, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who also has a kombucha drinks business, is among several urban winemaker. He has pulled together a informal group of growers who produce wine from several discreet urban vineyards nestled in private yards and allotments across Bristol. It is too clandestine to have an formal title so far, but the collective's WhatsApp group is named Grape Expectations.

Urban Wine Gardens Across the Globe

To date, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the sole location registered in the City Vineyard Network's forthcoming world atlas, which includes more famous urban wineries such as the eighteen hundred vines on the slopes of Paris's historic Montmartre neighbourhood and over 3,000 vines with views of and inside the Italian city. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the forefront of a movement reviving city vineyards in traditional winemaking nations, but has discovered them all over the world, including urban centers in Japan, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.

"Grape gardens assist cities remain more eco-friendly and more diverse. They protect land from construction by creating permanent, productive agricultural units within cities," says the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those produced in cities are a result of the earth the plants thrive in, the vagaries of the climate and the people who care for the grapes. "Each vintage represents the charm, community, environment and history of a urban center," adds the president.

Unknown Polish Variety

Returning to the city, the grower is in a race against time to harvest the grapevines he grew from a cutting left in his garden by a Polish family. If the rain comes, then the pigeons may seize their chance to attack once more. "This is the mystery Eastern European grape," he comments, as he cleans bruised and mouldy grapes from the shimmering clusters. "The variety remains uncertain their exact classification, but they are certainly hardy. In contrast to noble varieties – Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and other famous French grapes – you need not spray them with pesticides ... this could be a unique cultivar that was developed by the Soviets."

Collective Activities Across Bristol

The other members of the group are also making the most of sunny interludes between bursts of fall precipitation. At a rooftop garden overlooking the city's glistening waterfront, where historic trading ships once bobbed with barrels of wine from Europe and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is collecting her rondo grapes from approximately 50 plants. "I love the smell of these vines. The scent is so reminiscent," she remarks, stopping with a container of fruit slung over her arm. "It's the scent of Provence when you roll down the car windows on vacation."

Grant, fifty-two, who has devoted more than 20 years working for charitable groups in war-torn regions, inadvertently inherited the vineyard when she returned to the UK from East Africa with her household in 2018. She experienced an strong responsibility to maintain the grapevines in the yard of their new home. "This vineyard has already endured three different owners," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the idea of natural stewardship – of passing this on to future caretakers so they continue producing from the soil."

Sloping Gardens and Traditional Winemaking

Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the collective are busily laboring on the precipitous slopes of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has established more than 150 vines perched on terraces in her expansive property, which tumbles down towards the muddy local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, gesturing towards the tangled vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."

Today, the filmmaker, 60, is picking clusters of dusty purple Rondo grapes from rows of plants arranged along the cliff-side with the help of her child, her family member. Scofield, a documentary producer who has contributed to Netflix's nature programming and BBC Two's gardening shows, was inspired to cultivate vines after observing her neighbour's vines. She's discovered that hobbyists can make intriguing, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can command prices of upwards of £7 a glass in the increasing quantity of establishments focusing on low-processing vintages. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly make quality, traditional vintage," she says. "It is quite on trend, but in reality it's reviving an traditional method of producing vintage."

"During foot-stomping the fruit, the various natural microorganisms are released from the skins and enter the juice," says Scofield, partially submerged in a container of small branches, pips and red liquid. "This represents how wines were made traditionally, but commercial producers add preservatives to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently add a commercially produced culture."

Challenging Environments and Creative Solutions

In the immediate vicinity sprightly retiree another cultivator, who inspired Scofield to plant her vines, has gathered his companions to harvest Chardonnay grapes from one hundred plants he has laid out neatly across two terraces. The former teacher, a northern English physical education instructor who worked at Bristol University developed a passion for viticulture on annual sporting trips to France. However it is a difficult task to cultivate this particular variety in the humidity of the valley, with cooling tides moving through from the Bristol Channel. "I aimed to produce Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers," says Reeve with amusement. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and very sensitive to mildew."

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

The temperamental local weather is not the only challenge faced by winegrowers. The gardener has been compelled to install a fence on