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Each 20 minutes or so, an ageing diesel railway carriage pulls into a graffiti-covered stop. Close by, a police siren pierces the near-constant road noise. Commuters hurry past falling apart, ivy-draped garden fences as storm clouds form.

This is perhaps the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established vineyard. But James Bayliss-Smith has managed to 40 mature vines sagging with plump mauve berries on a sprawling garden plot situated between a row of historic homes and a local rail line just above Bristol downtown.

"I've seen people concealing illegal substances or other items in those bushes," states Bayliss-Smith. "But you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your vines."

Bayliss-Smith, 46, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, 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 community plots across Bristol. The project is too clandestine to have an formal title so far, but the collective's WhatsApp group is called Grape Expectations.

City Vineyards Across the World

To date, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the only one registered in the City Vineyard Network's forthcoming world atlas, which includes better-known city vineyards such as the 1,800 vines on the hillsides of Paris's renowned Montmartre area and more than 3,000 vines overlooking and inside Turin. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the vanguard of a movement reviving city vineyards in traditional winemaking countries, but has identified them throughout the globe, including urban centers in East Asia, South Asia and Uzbekistan.

"Vineyards assist urban areas stay more eco-friendly and more diverse. They preserve land from development by establishing permanent, productive farming plots inside cities," says the organization's leader.

Similar to other vintages, those created in cities are a result of the earth the vines thrive in, the unpredictability of the climate and the people who care for the fruit. "Each vintage represents the charm, local spirit, environment and history of a city," notes the president.

Mystery Eastern European Grapes

Returning to the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to gather the vines he grew from a cutting abandoned in his allotment by a Eastern European household. If the rain comes, then the birds may take advantage to feast again. "This is the mystery Polish variety," he comments, as he cleans damaged and rotten grapes from the glistering bunches. "The variety remains uncertain their exact classification, but they're definitely disease-resistant. Unlike premium grapes – Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and additional renowned French grapes – you need not spray them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."

Collective Efforts Throughout Bristol

The other members of the collective are additionally taking advantage of sunny interludes between bursts of fall precipitation. At a rooftop garden overlooking the city's glistening harbour, where historic trading ships once floated with casks of vintage from France and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is collecting her dark berries from approximately 50 plants. "I adore the aroma of these vines. The scent is so evocative," she says, stopping with a basket of grapes slung over her shoulder. "It's the scent of southern France when you open the car windows on vacation."

Grant, fifty-two, who has devoted more than 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in war-torn regions, unexpectedly took over the vineyard when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her family in 2018. She felt an overwhelming duty to maintain the grapevines in the yard of their new home. "This vineyard has previously endured three different owners," she says. "I deeply appreciate the concept of natural stewardship – of handing this down to someone else so they continue producing from the soil."

Terraced Vineyards and Traditional Production

A short walk away, the remaining cultivators of the group are busily laboring on the precipitous slopes of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has cultivated more than 150 plants situated on ledges in her expansive property, which descends towards the silty local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she says, gesturing towards the interwoven vineyard. "They can't believe they can see rows of vines in a city street."

Currently, Scofield, 60, is harvesting clusters of dusty purple Rondo grapes from lines of plants slung across the hillside with the help of her child, her family member. Scofield, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to Netflix's nature programming and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was motivated to cultivate vines after seeing her neighbour's grapevines. She has learned that hobbyists can make interesting, pleasurable traditional vintage, which can sell for upwards of £7 a glass in the increasing quantity of wine bars specialising in low-processing vintages. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly create good, traditional vintage," she says. "It is quite fashionable, but in reality it's resurrecting an traditional method of making wine."

"During foot-stomping the grapes, all the wild yeasts are released from the skins and enter the juice," explains Scofield, ankle deep in a bucket of small branches, pips and crimson juice. "This represents how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries add sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently add a commercially produced culture."

Challenging Environments and Creative Solutions

A few doors down sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who inspired Scofield to establish her vines, has gathered his friends to pick Chardonnay grapes from the 100 plants he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. Reeve, a northern English PE teacher who worked at the local university developed a passion for viticulture on regular visits to Europe. But it is a challenge to grow this particular variety in the dampness of the gorge, with cooling tides sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to produce Burgundian wines here, which is somewhat ambitious," says Reeve with a smile. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and very sensitive to mildew."

"My goal was creating Burgundian wines in this environment, which is rather ambitious"

The temperamental Bristol climate is not the sole problem encountered by grape cultivators. Reeve has had to install a barrier on