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Every quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel-powered railway carriage pulls into a graffiti-covered station. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the almost continuous traffic drone. Daily travelers rush by falling apart, ivy-draped garden fences as storm clouds gather.

This is perhaps the last place you anticipate to find a perfectly formed grape-growing plot. But James Bayliss-Smith has managed to 40 mature vines sagging with plump mauve grapes on a rambling garden plot situated between a line of 1930s houses and a local rail line just north of the city downtown.

"I've noticed individuals hiding heroin or other items in those bushes," states the grower. "Yet you simply continue ... and continue caring for your grapevines."

The cameraman, forty-six, a filmmaker who also has a kombucha drinks business, is among several urban winemaker. He has organized a loose collective of cultivators who produce wine from several hidden urban vineyards nestled in private yards and allotments throughout Bristol. It is sufficiently underground to have an official name so far, but the group's messaging chat is called Vineyard Dreams.

City Vineyards Across the Globe

So far, the grower's plot is the only one listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's forthcoming world atlas, which features more famous urban wineries such as the eighteen hundred plants on the slopes of Paris's renowned Montmartre neighbourhood and more than three thousand vines overlooking and inside the Italian city. The Italian-based charitable organization is at the forefront of a movement reviving urban grape cultivation in historic wine-producing nations, but has identified them throughout the world, including urban centers in Japan, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.

"Grape gardens assist cities stay greener and more diverse. These spaces preserve open space from development by establishing long-term, productive agricultural units within urban environments," explains the organization's leader.

Similar to other vintages, those created in urban areas are a product of the earth the plants grow in, the unpredictability of the climate and the individuals who tend the fruit. "Each vintage represents the beauty, community, landscape and history of a urban center," notes the spokesperson.

Unknown Eastern European Grapes

Returning to Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to gather the vines he cultivated from a cutting abandoned in his garden by a Eastern European household. Should the precipitation arrives, then the birds may take advantage to feast again. "Here we have the mystery Polish grape," he says, as he cleans damaged and rotten grapes from the glistering clusters. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they're definitely disease-resistant. In contrast to premium grapes – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and other famous French grapes – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."

Group Efforts Throughout Bristol

The other members of the collective are additionally taking advantage of sunny interludes between bursts of autumn rain. At a rooftop garden overlooking Bristol's glistening waterfront, where historic trading ships once floated with casks of wine from France and Spain, one cultivator is collecting her dark berries from about 50 plants. "I adore the smell of the grapevines. The scent is so evocative," she says, pausing with a container of grapes slung over her shoulder. "It's the scent of Provence when you roll down the vehicle windows on holiday."

Grant, 52, who has devoted more than 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, inadvertently inherited the grape garden when she returned to the UK from Kenya with her family in 2018. She experienced an overwhelming duty to look after the vines in the garden of their new home. "This plot has previously survived multiple proprietors," she explains. "I really like the concept of natural stewardship – of handing this down to someone else so they can continue producing from the soil."

Terraced Vineyards and Traditional Production

Nearby, the final two members of the collective are hard at work on the steep inclines of the local river valley. One filmmaker has established over 150 plants situated on terraces in her expansive property, which tumbles down towards the silty local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "They can't believe they can see rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."

Currently, the filmmaker, 60, is harvesting clusters of deep violet Rondo grapes from lines of vines slung across the hillside with the help of her child, Luca. Scofield, a documentary producer who has worked on Netflix's nature programming and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was inspired to plant grapes after seeing her neighbour's vines. She's discovered that amateurs can produce interesting, pleasurable traditional vintage, which can command prices of upwards of £7 a glass in the increasing quantity of wine bars focusing on low-processing wines. "It is incredibly satisfying that you can actually make good, traditional vintage," she says. "It's very on trend, but in reality it's reviving an traditional method of producing vintage."

"When I tread the grapes, the various wild yeasts are released from the skins into the liquid," says the winemaker, ankle deep in a container of tiny stems, pips and red liquid. "This represents how wines were historically produced, but commercial producers introduce sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently add a commercially produced culture."

Difficult Conditions and Inventive Approaches

A few doors down sprightly retiree another cultivator, who inspired Scofield to plant her grapevines, has assembled his companions to pick Chardonnay grapes from one hundred plants he has laid out neatly across multiple levels. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who taught at Bristol University developed a passion for wine on annual sporting trips to France. But it is a challenge to cultivate this particular variety in the dampness of the valley, with cooling tides sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I aimed to produce Burgundian wines in this location, which is somewhat ambitious," says the retiree with a smile. "This variety is late to ripen and very sensitive to mildew."

"I wanted to make Burgundian wines here, which is rather ambitious"

The temperamental local weather is not the sole challenge encountered by grape cultivators. Reeve has been compelled to erect a fence on