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Each 20 minutes or so, an ageing diesel-powered railway carriage pulls into a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm pierces the almost continuous road noise. Daily travelers rush by collapsing, ivy-covered garden fences as rain clouds gather.

It is maybe the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established vineyard. But one local grower has cultivated 40 mature vines sagging with plump mauve berries on a sprawling garden plot sandwiched between a row of historic homes and a local rail line just north of the city downtown.

"I've seen people hiding illegal substances or whatever in the shrubbery," states the grower. "Yet you simply continue ... and continue caring for your vines."

The cameraman, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who runs a kombucha drinks business, is not the only urban winemaker. He's organized a informal group of growers who produce wine from four discreet city grape gardens nestled in back gardens and allotments throughout Bristol. The project is sufficiently underground to have an formal title yet, but the group's WhatsApp group is called Vineyard Dreams.

Urban Wine Gardens Around the World

So far, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the sole location registered in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming world atlas, which features more famous urban wineries such as the eighteen hundred plants on the slopes of the French capital's historic artistic district area and over three thousand vines with views of and within the Italian city. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the forefront of a movement reviving city vineyards in traditional winemaking countries, but has identified them throughout the world, including urban centers in East Asia, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.

"Grape gardens help urban areas stay greener and ecologically varied. They preserve open space from development by creating long-term, yielding farming plots inside cities," explains the organization's leader.

Similar to other vintages, those produced in urban areas are a result of the earth the plants thrive in, the vagaries of the weather and the individuals who tend the fruit. "A bottle of wine embodies the beauty, community, landscape and history of a city," notes the spokesperson.

Unknown Eastern European Grapes

Back in the city, the grower is in a race against time to gather the vines he grew from a cutting left in his allotment by a Polish family. If the precipitation arrives, then the birds may seize their chance to feast once more. "This is the enigmatic Eastern European variety," he comments, as he removes bruised and rotten grapes from the shimmering clusters. "The variety remains uncertain their exact classification, but they are certainly hardy. In contrast to noble varieties – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and additional renowned European varieties – you need not treat them with chemicals ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."

Collective Efforts Across the City

The other members of the collective are additionally making the most of sunny interludes between bursts of autumn rain. On the terrace with views of Bristol's glistening waterfront, where historic trading ships once bobbed with barrels of vintage from France and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is harvesting her dark berries from approximately 50 vines. "I adore the aroma of the grapevines. It is so reminiscent," she says, pausing with a basket of grapes resting on her shoulder. "It's the scent of Provence when you roll down the car windows on vacation."

The humanitarian worker, 52, who has spent over two decades working for charitable groups in conflict zones, unexpectedly took over the grape garden when she returned to the UK from East Africa with her family in 2018. She experienced an strong responsibility to maintain the vines in the garden of their recently acquired property. "This plot has previously endured three different owners," she says. "I deeply appreciate the concept of environmental care – of passing this on to someone else so they continue producing from the soil."

Sloping Vineyards and Natural Winemaking

A short walk away, the final two members of the collective are hard at work on the steep inclines of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has cultivated more than 150 plants perched on terraces in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the interwoven vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing grapevine lines in a city street."

Today, Scofield, sixty, is picking clusters of deep violet Rondo grapes from lines of plants slung across the cliff-side with the help of her daughter, her family member. Scofield, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was inspired to cultivate vines after observing her neighbor's grapevines. She has learned that hobbyists can make intriguing, enjoyable natural wine, which can command prices of more than seven pounds a glass in the growing number of establishments specialising in minimal-intervention vintages. "It is incredibly satisfying that you can actually make quality, traditional vintage," she says. "It's very on trend, but in reality it's resurrecting an old way of making wine."

"During foot-stomping the fruit, the various wild yeasts are released from the skins and enter the juice," says 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 wild yeast and then incorporate a lab-grown culture."

Challenging Environments and Inventive Solutions

A few doors down active senior another cultivator, who inspired Scofield to establish her vines, has gathered his friends to pick white wine varieties from the 100 vines he has laid out neatly across two terraces. The former teacher, a northern English physical education instructor who worked at the local university cultivated an interest in viticulture on regular visits to Europe. But it is a challenge to cultivate this particular variety in the humidity of the gorge, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "I wanted to produce Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers," says Reeve with a smile. "This variety is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to mildew."

"My goal was creating European-style vintages here, which is rather ambitious"

The temperamental Bristol climate is not the sole challenge faced by grape cultivators. Reeve has been compelled to install a fence on