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Every quarter of an hour or so, an ageing diesel-powered railway carriage arrives at a graffiti-covered station. Nearby, a police siren pierces the almost continuous road noise. Daily travelers hurry past collapsing, ivy-draped fencing panels as storm clouds form.

This is perhaps the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established vineyard. But James Bayliss-Smith has cultivated four dozen established plants sagging with round mauve grapes on a rambling garden plot situated between a line of 1930s houses and a commuter railway just north of Bristol town centre.

"I've seen people hiding illegal substances or whatever in the shrubbery," states Bayliss-Smith. "But 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 among several urban winemaker. He's pulled together a informal group of growers who make wine from four hidden urban vineyards tucked away in private yards and allotments across the city. The project is sufficiently underground to have an formal title so far, but the collective's WhatsApp group is called Grape Expectations.

City Wine Gardens Around the World

So far, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the only one registered in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming world atlas, which features more famous city vineyards such as the eighteen hundred vines on the slopes of the French capital's historic Montmartre area and over three thousand grapevines with views of and within Turin. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the forefront of a movement re-establishing urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking countries, but has identified them throughout the world, including cities in East Asia, Bangladesh and Central Asia.

"Grape gardens assist cities stay more eco-friendly and more diverse. They preserve open space from construction by establishing long-term, yielding farming plots within urban environments," explains the organization's leader.

Like all wines, those created in cities are a result of the soils the vines thrive in, the vagaries of the climate and the people who tend the fruit. "Each vintage embodies the charm, community, environment and history of a urban center," adds the spokesperson.

Mystery Eastern European Grapes

Returning to Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to gather the vines he grew from a plant abandoned in his garden by a Polish family. If the precipitation arrives, then the pigeons may seize their chance to feast once more. "Here we have the mystery Polish grape," he comments, as he removes damaged and mouldy grapes from the glistering clusters. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they are certainly disease-resistant. In contrast to premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and other famous European varieties – you need not spray them with chemicals ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was bred by the Soviets."

Collective Activities Throughout the City

The other members of the collective are additionally making the most of bright periods between showers of autumn rain. At a rooftop garden with views of the city's glistening waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with barrels of wine from France and Spain, one cultivator is collecting her dark berries from approximately 50 plants. "I love the smell of these vines. It is so evocative," she says, pausing with a container of grapes resting on her shoulder. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you roll down the car windows on vacation."

The humanitarian worker, fifty-two, who has devoted more than two decades working for charitable groups in war-torn regions, unexpectedly inherited the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her household in 2018. She felt an strong responsibility to look after the grapevines in the garden of their recently acquired property. "This vineyard has previously survived multiple proprietors," she says. "I deeply appreciate the idea of environmental care – of handing this down to future caretakers so they continue producing from this land."

Terraced Vineyards and Natural Winemaking

Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the group are hard at work on the steep inclines of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has cultivated more than one hundred fifty vines situated on ledges in her expansive property, which descends towards the silty local waterway. "People are always surprised," she notes, gesturing towards the interwoven grape garden. "It's astonishing to them they can see rows of vines in a city street."

Today, Scofield, sixty, is harvesting clusters of dusty purple dark berries from lines of plants slung across the hillside with the assistance of her child, her family member. Scofield, a documentary producer who has worked on streaming service's Great National Parks series and television network's gardening shows, was motivated to plant grapes after seeing her neighbor's grapevines. She's discovered that hobbyists can make intriguing, enjoyable natural wine, which can sell for more than £7 a serving in the growing number of establishments focusing on minimal-intervention wines. "It is deeply rewarding that you can actually create quality, natural wine," she says. "It is quite fashionable, but in reality it's resurrecting an old way of making wine."

"When I tread the grapes, the various natural microorganisms come off the skins into the juice," says the winemaker, ankle deep in a bucket of tiny stems, seeds and red liquid. "That's how wines were historically produced, but industrial wineries introduce sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the wild yeast and then incorporate a commercially produced yeast."

Challenging Conditions and Creative Approaches

In the immediate vicinity sprightly retiree another cultivator, who inspired Scofield to establish her grapevines, has assembled his companions to pick Chardonnay grapes from the 100 plants he has arranged precisely across two terraces. Reeve, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who worked at Bristol University developed a passion for wine on regular visits to Europe. But it is a difficult task to grow Chardonnay grapes in the humidity of the gorge, with cooling tides moving through from the Bristol Channel. "I wanted to produce French-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers," says Reeve with amusement. "This variety is slow-maturing and very sensitive to mildew."

"My goal was creating European-style vintages in this environment, which is rather ambitious"

The temperamental local weather is not the only problem faced by grape cultivators. The gardener has been compelled to erect a barrier on