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Each 20 minutes or so, an older diesel-powered train arrives at a spray-painted station. Close by, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the near-constant road noise. Commuters rush by collapsing, ivy-covered fencing panels as rain clouds form.

It is perhaps the least likely spot you expect to find a well-established vineyard. However one local grower has managed to four dozen established plants heavy with plump purplish grapes on a sprawling allotment sandwiched between a row of historic homes and a commuter railway just above the city downtown.

"I've noticed individuals hiding heroin or other items in the shrubbery," states Bayliss-Smith. "But you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your grapevines."

Bayliss-Smith, 46, a filmmaker who also has a fermented beverage company, is not the only local vintner. He has organized a loose collective of cultivators who produce wine from four discreet urban vineyards nestled in private yards and community plots throughout the city. It is too clandestine to possess an formal title so far, but the collective's messaging chat is called Vineyard Dreams.

Urban Wine Gardens Across the World

So far, the grower's plot is the sole location listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming global directory, which includes more famous urban wineries such as the 1,800 vines on the hillsides of Paris's renowned Montmartre neighbourhood and more than three thousand vines overlooking and inside the Italian city. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the forefront of a movement re-establishing city vineyards in traditional winemaking countries, but has discovered them throughout the world, including cities in Japan, South Asia and Central Asia.

"Grape gardens help cities remain more eco-friendly and more diverse. They protect land from construction by establishing permanent, productive farming plots within urban environments," explains the association's president.

Like all wines, those created in urban areas are a result of the soils the plants thrive in, the unpredictability of the weather and the people who care for the fruit. "A bottle of wine represents the charm, local spirit, environment and heritage of a urban center," notes the spokesperson.

Unknown Eastern European Variety

Back in Bristol, the grower is in a urgent timeline to harvest the vines he cultivated from a plant abandoned in his garden by a Eastern European household. Should the precipitation arrives, then the birds may take advantage to feast again. "This is the mystery Polish variety," he says, as he cleans damaged and mouldy grapes from the shimmering clusters. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they're definitely disease-resistant. Unlike noble varieties – Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and other famous French grapes – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was bred by the Eastern Bloc."

Group Efforts Across the City

Additional participants of the group are additionally making the most of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. On the terrace overlooking the city's shimmering harbour, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with barrels of wine from France and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is harvesting her dark berries from approximately fifty plants. "I adore the aroma of these vines. The scent is so reminiscent," she says, pausing with a basket of grapes resting on her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you open the vehicle windows on vacation."

Grant, fifty-two, who has devoted more than 20 years working for charitable groups in conflict zones, unexpectedly took over the grape garden when she returned to the United Kingdom from East Africa with her family in 2018. She experienced an strong responsibility to look after the vines in the garden of their recently acquired property. "This plot has already endured three different owners," she says. "I really like the concept of natural stewardship – of passing this on to someone else so they can keep cultivating from this land."

Terraced Vineyards and Traditional Production

Nearby, the final two members of the group are hard at work on the precipitous slopes of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has cultivated more than 150 vines perched on terraces in her expansive property, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, gesturing towards the interwoven grape garden. "They can't believe they are viewing rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."

Currently, Scofield, 60, is picking clusters of deep violet dark berries from rows of vines arranged along the cliff-side with the help of her daughter, Luca. Scofield, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to streaming service's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was motivated to cultivate vines after observing her neighbour's vines. She has learned that hobbyists can produce intriguing, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can sell for upwards of £7 a glass in the increasing quantity of establishments specialising in low-processing vintages. "It is incredibly satisfying that you can actually make good, natural wine," she states. "It's very fashionable, but really it's reviving an old way of making vintage."

"When I tread the grapes, the various wild yeasts are released from the surfaces and enter the liquid," explains Scofield, partially submerged in a container of tiny stems, seeds and crimson juice. "That's how vintages were historically produced, but commercial producers introduce sulphur [dioxide] to kill the natural cultures and then add a commercially produced culture."

Difficult Environments and Creative Solutions

A few doors down active senior Bob Reeve, who motivated Scofield to establish her grapevines, has assembled his friends to pick white wine varieties from the 100 plants he has arranged precisely across two terraces. The former teacher, a northern English PE teacher who worked at the local university developed a passion for wine on regular visits to France. However it is a challenge to cultivate this particular variety in the dampness of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I wanted to produce Burgundian wines in this location, which is a bit bonkers," admits the retiree with amusement. "This variety is slow-maturing and very sensitive to fungal infections."

"My goal was creating European-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers"

The temperamental Bristol climate is not the sole challenge faced by winegrowers. The gardener has had to erect a fence on