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Every 20 minutes or so, an older diesel-powered train pulls into a spray-painted stop. Close by, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the near-constant traffic drone. Commuters rush by falling apart, ivy-draped garden fences as storm clouds gather.

It is perhaps the last place you anticipate to find a perfectly formed vineyard. But one local grower has cultivated 40 mature vines heavy with plump mauve berries on a sprawling garden plot situated between a line of historic homes and a commuter railway just north of Bristol downtown.

"I've seen people concealing heroin or other items in those bushes," states the grower. "Yet you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your grapevines."

The cameraman, 46, a documentary cameraman who runs a kombucha drinks business, is among several urban winemaker. He's organized a informal group of cultivators who make vintage from four hidden city grape gardens tucked away in private yards and allotments throughout Bristol. It is too clandestine to possess an official name so far, but the group's WhatsApp group is called Vineyard Dreams.

Urban Wine Gardens Around the World

So far, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the only one registered in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming world atlas, which features better-known urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the hillsides of the French capital's renowned Montmartre area and over three thousand grapevines with views of and within the Italian city. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the forefront of a movement reviving city vineyards in historic wine-producing countries, but has identified them throughout the world, including urban centers in East Asia, South Asia and Uzbekistan.

"Vineyards help urban areas remain greener and ecologically varied. These spaces preserve land from construction by establishing permanent, yielding agricultural units inside urban environments," explains the organization's leader.

Similar to other vintages, those created in cities are a product of the earth the plants thrive in, the unpredictability of the climate and the people who tend the grapes. "Each vintage embodies the beauty, local spirit, landscape and heritage of a urban center," notes the president.

Unknown Polish Grapes

Returning to Bristol, the grower is in a race against time to gather the grapevines he grew from a cutting abandoned in his garden by a Eastern European household. Should the rain comes, then the pigeons may take advantage to attack once more. "Here we have the enigmatic Eastern European variety," he comments, as he removes damaged and rotten berries from the shimmering clusters. "The variety remains uncertain what variety they are, but they're definitely disease-resistant. In contrast to noble varieties – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and additional renowned European varieties – you don't have to treat them with pesticides ... this is possibly a special variety that was bred by the Eastern Bloc."

Group Activities Across Bristol

Additional participants of the group are also taking advantage of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. At a rooftop garden overlooking Bristol's glistening harbour, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with barrels of vintage from France and Spain, Katy Grant is collecting her dark berries from approximately 50 vines. "I love the aroma of the grapevines. The scent is so reminiscent," she says, stopping with a basket of grapes resting on her shoulder. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you roll down the car windows on vacation."

The humanitarian worker, 52, who has devoted more than 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, inadvertently inherited the vineyard when she returned to the UK from Kenya with her family in recent years. 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 natural stewardship – of handing this down to someone else so they can keep cultivating from this land."

Sloping Gardens 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 perched on ledges in her wild half-acre garden, which tumbles down towards the silty local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, gesturing towards the interwoven vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they can see rows of vines in a city street."

Today, Scofield, 60, is picking bunches of dusty purple Rondo grapes from lines of vines arranged along the cliff-side with the help of her child, her family member. The conservationist, a documentary producer who has worked on Netflix's Great National Parks series and television network's gardening shows, was inspired to plant grapes after observing her neighbor's grapevines. She has learned that hobbyists can produce intriguing, pleasurable traditional vintage, which can command prices of more than seven pounds a glass in the increasing quantity of establishments specialising in low-processing wines. "It is incredibly satisfying that you can actually create quality, traditional vintage," she states. "It's very fashionable, but in reality it's reviving an old way of making vintage."

"When I tread the fruit, the various wild yeasts come off the surfaces and enter the liquid," explains Scofield, ankle deep in a bucket of small branches, seeds and red liquid. "This represents how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries introduce preservatives to kill the wild yeast and subsequently incorporate a commercially produced culture."

Difficult Conditions and Creative Solutions

In the immediate vicinity active senior another cultivator, who inspired his neighbor to plant her vines, has gathered his friends to pick white wine varieties from one hundred vines he has laid out neatly across two terraces. Reeve, a northern English physical education instructor who taught at the local university developed a passion for viticulture on annual sporting trips to Europe. However it is a difficult task to grow Chardonnay grapes in the dampness of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I aimed to make Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers," admits Reeve with a smile. "This variety is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to mildew."

"My goal was creating Burgundian wines in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"

The unpredictable Bristol climate is not the only challenge encountered by winegrowers. The gardener has had to erect a barrier on