🔗 Share this article

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

This is maybe the last place you expect to find a well-established grape-growing plot. However one local grower has cultivated 40 mature vines sagging with plump mauve berries on a rambling allotment situated between a line of historic homes and a local rail line just north of Bristol downtown.

"I've noticed individuals hiding illegal substances or whatever in the shrubbery," says Bayliss-Smith. "Yet you simply continue ... and continue caring for your grapevines."

Bayliss-Smith, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, is not the only local vintner. He has pulled together a loose collective of growers who produce wine from several hidden urban vineyards tucked away in private yards and community plots across Bristol. It is too clandestine to have an official name yet, but the group's WhatsApp group is named Grape Expectations.

City Wine Gardens Across the World

So far, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the only one registered in the City Vineyard Network's forthcoming global directory, which includes better-known urban wineries such as the eighteen hundred plants on the slopes of Paris's renowned artistic district area and more than 3,000 vines overlooking and within the Italian city. The Italian-based charitable organization is at the vanguard of a initiative re-establishing urban grape cultivation in historic wine-producing nations, but has discovered them all over the world, including urban centers in Japan, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.

"Grape gardens assist cities stay greener and ecologically varied. These spaces protect land from construction by creating permanent, yielding farming plots within urban environments," says the organization's leader.

Like all wines, those produced in urban areas are a product of the earth the vines thrive in, the unpredictability of the climate and the individuals who tend the fruit. "A bottle of wine embodies the beauty, local spirit, environment and history of a urban center," notes the president.

Unknown Eastern European Variety

Returning to Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to gather 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 feast again. "This is the enigmatic Polish variety," he says, as he removes damaged and mouldy berries from the shimmering clusters. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they're definitely hardy. In contrast to premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and additional renowned French grapes – you need not treat them with chemicals ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was bred by the Soviets."

Group Efforts Across the City

The other members of the group are additionally making the most of sunny interludes between showers of fall precipitation. At a rooftop garden with views of Bristol's glistening harbour, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with barrels of vintage from France and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is collecting her rondo grapes from about 50 plants. "I adore the smell of the grapevines. The scent is so evocative," she remarks, pausing with a container of grapes resting on her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you roll down the vehicle windows on holiday."

The humanitarian worker, 52, who has devoted more than two decades working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, unexpectedly took over the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her household in 2018. She felt an overwhelming duty to look after the vines in the garden of their recently acquired property. "This plot has already endured multiple proprietors," she explains. "I really like the idea of natural stewardship – of passing this on to future caretakers so they can keep cultivating from the soil."

Sloping Gardens and Traditional Production

A short walk away, the final two members of the collective are busily laboring on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. One filmmaker has established over 150 vines perched on ledges in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she says, gesturing towards the tangled vineyard. "They can't believe they are viewing rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."

Today, the filmmaker, sixty, is harvesting bunches of deep violet dark berries from lines of vines arranged along the cliff-side with the assistance of her daughter, Luca. Scofield, a documentary producer who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's gardening shows, was motivated to plant grapes after observing her neighbor's vines. She's discovered that amateurs can produce intriguing, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can sell for more than £7 a glass in the increasing quantity of establishments focusing on minimal-intervention wines. "It's just deeply rewarding that you can actually make quality, traditional vintage," she states. "It is quite on trend, but really it's resurrecting an traditional method of producing wine."

"During foot-stomping the fruit, the various natural microorganisms are released from the surfaces and enter the liquid," says Scofield, ankle deep in a bucket of small branches, pips and crimson juice. "That's how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries introduce preservatives to eliminate the wild yeast and then incorporate a lab-grown culture."

Difficult Environments and Creative Approaches

A few doors down sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who inspired his neighbor to establish her vines, has assembled his companions to harvest white wine varieties from one hundred vines he has laid out neatly across multiple levels. Reeve, a northern English physical education instructor who taught at the local university cultivated an interest in viticulture on regular visits to France. But it is a challenge to grow Chardonnay grapes in the humidity of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to make French-style vintages in this location, which is a bit bonkers," says Reeve with amusement. "This variety is slow-maturing and particularly vulnerable to mildew."

"My goal was creating Burgundian wines in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"

The unpredictable Bristol climate is not the sole challenge faced by grape cultivators. The gardener has had to install a fence on