🔗 Share this article

Each 20 minutes or so, an ageing diesel railway carriage pulls into a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm pierces the almost continuous road noise. Commuters hurry past falling apart, ivy-covered fencing panels as rain clouds gather.

It is maybe the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established vineyard. But one local grower has managed to four dozen established plants sagging with round mauve grapes on a rambling garden plot sandwiched between a line of historic homes and a local rail line just above Bristol downtown.

"I've noticed individuals hiding illegal substances or other items in the shrubbery," states Bayliss-Smith. "But you simply continue ... and continue caring for your grapevines."

Bayliss-Smith, forty-six, a filmmaker who runs a kombucha drinks business, is not the only urban winemaker. He has organized a loose collective of cultivators who make vintage from four discreet urban vineyards nestled in back gardens and community plots throughout the city. The project is too clandestine to possess an formal title yet, but the group's messaging chat is named Vineyard Dreams.

Urban Vineyards Around the World

So far, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the only one listed in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming global directory, which features more famous urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the hillsides of the French capital's renowned Montmartre neighbourhood and more than three thousand vines with views of and inside Turin. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the vanguard of a initiative reviving city vineyards in historic wine-producing nations, but has discovered them all over the world, including cities in East Asia, South Asia and Uzbekistan.

"Vineyards assist cities remain greener and more diverse. These spaces preserve land from development by creating permanent, productive farming plots within cities," says the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those produced in urban areas are a result of the soils the plants grow in, the unpredictability of the climate and the people who tend the grapes. "A bottle of wine represents the beauty, community, landscape and history of a city," adds the spokesperson.

Unknown Polish Grapes

Returning to the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to gather the vines he cultivated from a plant abandoned in his garden by a Eastern European household. Should the precipitation arrives, then the birds may seize their chance to attack again. "Here we have the enigmatic Eastern European variety," he says, as he cleans damaged and mouldy berries from the shimmering bunches. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they're definitely hardy. In contrast to noble varieties – Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and other famous French grapes – you need not spray them with chemicals ... this is possibly a special variety that was developed by the Soviets."

Collective Activities Across the City

The other members of the collective are additionally taking advantage of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. At a rooftop garden with views of the city's glistening harbour, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with casks of vintage from Europe and Spain, Katy Grant is harvesting her rondo grapes from about 50 vines. "I love the aroma of these vines. It is so evocative," she says, stopping with a basket of fruit resting on her arm. "It's the scent of Provence when you open the car windows on vacation."

Grant, fifty-two, who has devoted more than 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in war-torn regions, inadvertently took over the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her family in recent years. She experienced an strong responsibility to look after the grapevines in the yard of their recently acquired property. "This vineyard has previously survived three different owners," she says. "I deeply appreciate the concept of environmental care – of handing this down to future caretakers so they can continue producing from the soil."

Terraced Vineyards and Natural Production

Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the group are busily laboring on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has established over one hundred fifty plants perched on ledges in her expansive property, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she says, gesturing towards the interwoven vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing rows of vines in a city street."

Today, Scofield, 60, is harvesting bunches of dusty purple Rondo grapes from rows of vines slung across the hillside with the help of her child, Luca. Scofield, a documentary producer who has contributed to streaming service's nature programming and BBC Two's gardening shows, was inspired to cultivate vines after seeing her neighbour's grapevines. She's discovered that hobbyists can make interesting, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can command prices of upwards of seven pounds a serving in the increasing quantity of wine bars specialising in low-processing wines. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly make quality, natural wine," she says. "It's very fashionable, but in reality it's reviving an old way of making vintage."

"When I tread the grapes, all the wild yeasts come off the surfaces and enter the liquid," says the winemaker, partially submerged in a container of tiny stems, pips and crimson juice. "This represents how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries add sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently add a commercially produced yeast."

Difficult Conditions and Creative Solutions

In the immediate vicinity active senior Bob Reeve, who inspired Scofield to establish her grapevines, has assembled his friends to pick white wine varieties from one hundred plants he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. Reeve, a northern English physical education instructor who taught at Bristol University cultivated an interest in viticulture on regular visits to France. But it is a difficult task to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to make Burgundian wines in this location, which is somewhat ambitious," admits the retiree with amusement. "This variety is late to ripen and very sensitive to mildew."

"I wanted to make Burgundian wines in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"

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