🔗 Share this article

Each quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel railway carriage arrives at a graffiti-covered station. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the almost continuous road noise. Commuters rush by falling apart, ivy-draped fencing panels as rain clouds gather.

It is perhaps the least likely spot you expect to find a perfectly formed grape-growing plot. But one local grower has cultivated four dozen established plants sagging with round mauve grapes on a sprawling allotment situated between a line of 1930s houses and a local rail line just above Bristol downtown.

"I've seen individuals concealing illegal substances or whatever in those bushes," states the grower. "Yet you just get on with it ... and keep tending to your grapevines."

The cameraman, 46, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, is not the only urban winemaker. He has organized a loose collective of growers who make wine from several discreet urban vineyards nestled in back gardens and allotments throughout Bristol. The project is sufficiently underground to possess an official name yet, but the group's messaging chat is named Grape Expectations.

Urban Vineyards Across the Globe

To date, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the sole location listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's forthcoming world atlas, which includes more famous city vineyards such as the 1,800 plants on the slopes of the French capital's historic Montmartre area and more than three thousand vines with views of and inside the Italian city. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the forefront of a movement re-establishing city vineyards in historic wine-producing countries, but has identified them throughout the world, including cities in Japan, South Asia and Uzbekistan.

"Vineyards assist urban areas stay more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. They protect open space from development by establishing long-term, productive agricultural units inside cities," says the organization's leader.

Like all wines, those produced in cities are a product of the soils the plants thrive in, the unpredictability of the weather and the people who tend the grapes. "A bottle of wine represents the charm, community, environment and history of a city," adds the spokesperson.

Mystery Eastern European Grapes

Returning to the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to gather the vines he grew from a plant abandoned in his allotment by a Polish family. Should the rain comes, then the pigeons may take advantage to feast again. "This is the enigmatic Polish grape," he says, as he removes bruised and mouldy berries from the glistering bunches. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they are certainly disease-resistant. In contrast to premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and other famous European varieties – you don't have to spray them with chemicals ... this could be a unique cultivar that was developed by the Soviets."

Collective Efforts Throughout Bristol

Additional participants of the group are additionally making the most of sunny interludes between bursts of fall precipitation. At a rooftop garden overlooking Bristol's glistening waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with barrels of wine from France and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is harvesting her dark berries from approximately fifty vines. "I adore the smell of the grapevines. The scent is so evocative," she remarks, stopping with a basket of grapes resting on her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you roll down the car windows on vacation."

The humanitarian worker, 52, who has spent over two decades working for charitable groups in conflict zones, unexpectedly took over the vineyard when she returned to the United Kingdom from East Africa with her household in 2018. She experienced an overwhelming duty to look after the grapevines in the yard of their recently acquired property. "This vineyard has already endured three different owners," she says. "I really like the idea of environmental care – of handing this down to someone else so they keep cultivating from this land."

Sloping Vineyards and Natural Production

A short walk away, the final two members of the collective are busily laboring on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has cultivated more than 150 plants situated on ledges in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the muddy River Avon. "People are always surprised," she says, gesturing towards the interwoven vineyard. "They can't believe they are viewing grapevine lines in a city street."

Currently, the filmmaker, sixty, is harvesting clusters of dusty purple Rondo grapes from lines of vines slung across the hillside with the assistance of her daughter, Luca. The conservationist, a documentary producer who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's gardening shows, was inspired to plant grapes after observing her neighbour's grapevines. She's discovered that hobbyists can produce interesting, enjoyable natural wine, which can command prices of more than seven pounds a serving in the growing number of wine bars focusing on minimal-intervention wines. "It's just deeply rewarding that you can actually make good, traditional vintage," she states. "It's very fashionable, but in reality it's reviving an old way of making vintage."

"When I tread the fruit, all the wild yeasts are released from the surfaces into the juice," says Scofield, ankle deep in a container of tiny stems, pips and crimson juice. "That's how wines were made traditionally, but industrial wineries add preservatives to kill the wild yeast and subsequently incorporate a lab-grown culture."

Challenging Conditions and Creative Approaches

A few doors down active senior another cultivator, who motivated his neighbor to plant her grapevines, has assembled his friends to pick white wine varieties from the 100 vines he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. Reeve, a Lancashire-born physical education instructor who worked at Bristol University developed a passion for wine on annual sporting trips to France. But it is a challenge to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the valley, with temperature fluctuations moving through from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to make French-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers," admits the retiree with amusement. "Chardonnay is slow-maturing and very sensitive to mildew."

"My goal was creating Burgundian wines in this environment, which is rather ambitious"

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