🔗 Share this article

Each quarter of an hour or so, an ageing diesel-powered railway carriage arrives at a graffiti-covered station. Close by, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the near-constant traffic drone. Commuters hurry past collapsing, ivy-covered garden fences as rain clouds form.

This is maybe the last place you expect to find a perfectly formed vineyard. But James Bayliss-Smith has managed to 40 mature vines heavy with plump purplish grapes on a rambling garden plot situated between a row of historic homes and a commuter railway just above Bristol town centre.

"I've noticed people hiding illegal substances or other items in those bushes," states Bayliss-Smith. "But you simply continue ... and continue caring for your vines."

The cameraman, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who also has a kombucha drinks business, is not the only urban winemaker. He has organized a loose collective of cultivators who produce wine from several discreet urban vineyards nestled in back gardens and community plots throughout the city. It is sufficiently underground to have an formal title yet, but the collective's WhatsApp group is named Grape Expectations.

City Vineyards Across the World

To date, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the sole location listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming global directory, which features more famous city vineyards such as the 1,800 vines on the slopes of the French capital's renowned artistic district neighbourhood and more than three thousand grapevines overlooking and inside the Italian city. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the vanguard of a movement re-establishing urban grape cultivation in historic wine-producing nations, but has discovered them all over the world, including urban centers in East Asia, Bangladesh and Central Asia.

"Vineyards assist urban areas stay greener and ecologically varied. These spaces protect open space from construction by creating long-term, yielding farming plots inside cities," says the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those created in cities are a product of the soils the vines thrive in, the unpredictability of the climate and the individuals who tend the fruit. "Each vintage embodies the charm, community, environment and history of a city," adds the spokesperson.

Mystery Eastern European Grapes

Back in Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to harvest the grapevines he cultivated from a cutting left in his allotment by a Polish family. Should the rain arrives, then the birds may seize their chance to attack once more. "Here we have the mystery Polish variety," he says, as he cleans bruised and mouldy berries from the shimmering bunches. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they are certainly hardy. In contrast to noble varieties – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and other famous European varieties – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Soviets."

Group Efforts Throughout the City

Additional participants of the collective are also taking advantage of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. On the terrace with views of the city's shimmering harbour, where historic trading ships once floated with casks of vintage from Europe and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is collecting her dark berries from about 50 vines. "I love the aroma of these vines. It is so evocative," she says, pausing with a container of grapes slung over her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you roll down the car windows on holiday."

Grant, 52, who has devoted more than 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in war-torn regions, unexpectedly took over the vineyard when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her household in 2018. She felt an overwhelming duty to maintain the vines in the yard of their new home. "This vineyard has previously endured three different owners," she says. "I deeply appreciate the concept of natural stewardship – of handing this down to someone else so they can keep cultivating from this land."

Terraced Gardens and Natural Production

A short walk away, the final two members of the group are busily laboring on the precipitous slopes of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has established over one hundred fifty vines situated on terraces in her expansive property, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "They can't believe they can see rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."

Today, Scofield, sixty, is picking bunches of deep violet Rondo grapes from rows of vines slung across the hillside with the help of her daughter, her family member. Scofield, a documentary producer who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and television network's gardening shows, was motivated to cultivate vines after observing her neighbor's vines. She's discovered that amateurs can make interesting, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can command prices of upwards of £7 a serving in the increasing quantity of wine bars focusing on minimal-intervention wines. "It's just incredibly satisfying that you can truly make good, traditional vintage," she states. "It is quite on trend, but really it's resurrecting an traditional method of making wine."

"When I tread the grapes, the various wild yeasts come off the surfaces and enter the juice," explains Scofield, partially submerged in a bucket of small branches, seeds and red liquid. "That's how wines were made traditionally, but commercial producers introduce preservatives to eliminate the wild yeast and subsequently incorporate a commercially produced yeast."

Challenging Environments and Inventive Solutions

A few doors down sprightly retiree another cultivator, who inspired Scofield to plant her grapevines, has gathered his friends to pick white wine varieties from the 100 plants he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born physical education instructor who worked at Bristol University cultivated an interest in viticulture on regular visits to France. However it is a difficult task to grow this particular variety in the dampness of the gorge, with cooling tides sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "I wanted to produce French-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers," says Reeve with a smile. "This variety is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to mildew."

"My goal was creating European-style vintages here, which is rather ambitious"

The temperamental local weather is not the sole problem encountered by grape cultivators. The gardener has had to erect a barrier on