🔗 Share this article

Each 20 minutes or so, an ageing diesel-powered railway carriage arrives at a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the almost continuous traffic drone. Commuters rush by collapsing, ivy-covered fencing panels as rain clouds gather.

This is maybe the last place you anticipate to find a well-established vineyard. But one local grower has cultivated four dozen established plants sagging with plump mauve berries on a rambling allotment sandwiched between a line of historic homes and a commuter railway just above Bristol town centre.

"I've seen individuals concealing heroin or whatever in those bushes," states the grower. "But you simply continue ... and keep tending to your vines."

Bayliss-Smith, 46, a filmmaker who also has a kombucha drinks business, is not the only local vintner. He's pulled together a informal group of cultivators who make vintage from four hidden urban vineyards nestled in back gardens and allotments throughout Bristol. It is sufficiently underground to possess an formal title so far, but the collective's messaging chat is called Vineyard Dreams.

City Wine Gardens Across the World

So far, the grower's allotment is the only one listed in the City Vineyard Network's forthcoming world atlas, which includes better-known urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the slopes of Paris's renowned artistic district area and over 3,000 grapevines with views of and within the Italian city. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the forefront of a movement re-establishing city vineyards in historic wine-producing nations, but has discovered them all over the world, including cities in Japan, South Asia and Uzbekistan.

"Grape gardens help cities stay more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. These spaces protect open space from construction by creating permanent, yielding agricultural units inside urban environments," says the association's president.

Like all wines, those created in urban areas are a product of the soils the vines grow in, the unpredictability of the weather and the people who care for the fruit. "A bottle of wine represents the beauty, community, landscape and history of a urban center," notes the spokesperson.

Unknown Polish Grapes

Returning to the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to harvest the vines he grew from a cutting abandoned in his garden by a Eastern European household. If the rain comes, then the birds may take advantage to feast once more. "Here we have the enigmatic Eastern European grape," he says, as he removes bruised and rotten grapes from the shimmering bunches. "The variety remains uncertain what variety they are, but they are certainly hardy. Unlike premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and other famous French grapes – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was bred by the Soviets."

Collective Activities Across Bristol

The other members of the collective are also making the most of bright periods between bursts of autumn rain. On the terrace overlooking Bristol's shimmering harbour, where historic trading ships once floated with casks of wine from France and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is harvesting her dark berries from about 50 plants. "I adore the smell of the grapevines. The scent is so evocative," she says, stopping with a container of grapes resting on her shoulder. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you open the vehicle windows on holiday."

The humanitarian worker, 52, who has devoted more than 20 years working for charitable groups in war-torn regions, inadvertently inherited the grape garden when she returned to the United Kingdom from Kenya with her household in 2018. She felt an overwhelming duty to look after the vines in the yard of their recently acquired property. "This plot has already survived three different owners," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the concept of environmental care – of passing this on to someone else so they can continue producing from the soil."

Terraced Gardens and Natural Production

Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the group are busily laboring on the steep inclines of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has established over 150 plants situated on terraces in her expansive property, which descends towards the muddy River Avon. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the tangled vineyard. "They can't believe they can see grapevine lines in a city street."

Currently, Scofield, 60, is picking bunches of dusty purple dark berries from lines of vines arranged along the hillside with the help of her daughter, her family member. The conservationist, a documentary producer who has worked on Netflix's Great National Parks series and television network's Gardeners' World, was inspired to plant grapes after observing her neighbour's vines. She's discovered that hobbyists can produce interesting, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can command prices of more than £7 a serving in the growing number of establishments specialising in minimal-intervention wines. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly create good, natural wine," she says. "It's very on trend, but in reality it's reviving an traditional method of making vintage."

"When I tread the grapes, all the wild yeasts are released from the skins into the juice," explains Scofield, ankle deep in a bucket of small branches, seeds and crimson juice. "This represents how vintages were historically produced, but commercial producers introduce sulphur [dioxide] to kill the wild yeast and then add a commercially produced culture."

Challenging Environments and Creative Solutions

In the immediate vicinity sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who motivated Scofield to establish her vines, has assembled his companions to harvest Chardonnay grapes from the 100 vines he has laid out neatly across multiple levels. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born physical education instructor who taught at the local university developed a passion for viticulture on annual sporting trips to Europe. But it is a difficult task to grow this particular variety in the dampness of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to produce Burgundian wines in this location, which is somewhat ambitious," says Reeve with a smile. "Chardonnay is slow-maturing and particularly vulnerable to mildew."

"My goal was creating European-style vintages in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"

The unpredictable local weather is not the only challenge faced by winegrowers. The gardener has had to install a barrier on