Each 20 minutes or so, an ageing diesel train arrives at a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a police siren cuts through the almost continuous 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 well-established grape-growing plot. However James Bayliss-Smith has managed to 40 mature vines sagging with plump purplish berries on a rambling garden plot situated between a line of 1930s houses and a local rail line just above Bristol downtown.
"I've noticed people concealing illegal substances or other items in the shrubbery," says the grower. "But you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your vines."
The cameraman, 46, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, is not the only local vintner. He has organized a informal group of cultivators who produce wine from four hidden urban vineyards nestled in back gardens and community plots throughout Bristol. It is sufficiently underground to have an official name so far, but the group's WhatsApp group is called Grape Expectations.
City Vineyards Around the World
So far, the grower's plot is the sole location registered in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming global directory, which includes more famous urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the slopes of the French capital's renowned artistic district neighbourhood and over 3,000 vines overlooking and inside Turin. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the forefront of a movement reviving urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking nations, but has discovered them throughout the globe, including urban centers in Japan, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.
"Vineyards help urban areas stay more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. They preserve open space from development by establishing permanent, productive farming plots inside urban environments," says the association's president.
Similar to other vintages, those created in urban areas are a result of the soils the vines grow in, the unpredictability of the climate and the individuals who care for the fruit. "Each vintage represents the beauty, community, environment and history of a urban center," notes the spokesperson.
Mystery Eastern European Variety
Back in Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to gather the vines he cultivated from a cutting left in his allotment by a Eastern European household. Should the precipitation comes, then the pigeons may take advantage to attack once more. "Here we have the enigmatic Polish grape," he comments, as he cleans bruised and rotten berries from the glistering clusters. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they are certainly hardy. Unlike premium grapes – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and additional renowned French grapes – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."
Collective Activities Across the City
Additional participants of the collective are also making the most of sunny interludes between bursts 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 Europe and Spain, one cultivator is harvesting her dark berries from approximately 50 vines. "I adore the aroma of the grapevines. It is so evocative," she says, pausing with a container of fruit resting on her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you roll down the car windows on vacation."
Grant, fifty-two, who has devoted more than 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, inadvertently inherited the vineyard when she returned to the UK from Kenya with her family in 2018. She felt an overwhelming duty to maintain the grapevines in the yard of their new home. "This plot has already endured multiple proprietors," she says. "I really like the concept of environmental care – of handing this down to future caretakers so they can continue producing from the soil."
Sloping Gardens and Traditional Production
A short walk away, the remaining cultivators of the collective are busily laboring on the steep inclines of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has cultivated over one hundred fifty plants situated on terraces in her expansive property, which tumbles down towards the muddy River Avon. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, indicating the tangled vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they can see rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."
Currently, Scofield, sixty, is harvesting bunches of dusty purple dark berries from lines of vines arranged along the hillside with the help of her daughter, Luca. Scofield, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was motivated to cultivate vines after observing her neighbour's grapevines. She has learned that amateurs can produce interesting, enjoyable natural wine, which can command prices of upwards of seven pounds a glass in the growing number of wine bars focusing on low-processing wines. "It is incredibly satisfying that you can actually make quality, natural wine," she states. "It is quite fashionable, but in reality it's resurrecting an traditional method of producing wine."
"When I tread the grapes, all the wild yeasts come off the surfaces into the juice," explains the winemaker, partially submerged in a container of small branches, pips and crimson juice. "This represents how wines were historically produced, but industrial wineries add preservatives to kill the natural cultures and then add a commercially produced culture."
Difficult Conditions and Creative Approaches
A few doors down sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who inspired his neighbor 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 PE teacher who taught at Bristol University cultivated an interest in wine on regular visits to France. However it is a challenge to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I aimed to make Burgundian wines here, which is somewhat ambitious," says the retiree with a smile. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and very sensitive to mildew."
"I wanted to make European-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers"
The unpredictable local weather is not the sole challenge faced by grape cultivators. The gardener has had to erect a barrier on
