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Each quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel-powered railway carriage pulls into a spray-painted stop. Close by, a law enforcement alarm pierces the near-constant road noise. Commuters rush by falling apart, ivy-draped garden fences as rain clouds form.

This is perhaps the last place you anticipate to find a well-established grape-growing plot. However James Bayliss-Smith has cultivated 40 mature vines sagging with round mauve grapes on a rambling garden plot situated between a row of 1930s houses and a commuter railway just above the city town centre.

"I've noticed people hiding illegal substances or whatever in those bushes," states the grower. "Yet you simply continue ... and continue caring for your grapevines."

The cameraman, 46, a filmmaker who also has a fermented beverage company, is among several urban winemaker. He has organized a loose collective of growers who produce vintage from several discreet city grape gardens nestled in private yards and allotments throughout Bristol. The project is too clandestine to possess an formal title so far, but the group's WhatsApp group is called Vineyard Dreams.

Urban Wine Gardens Across the World

To date, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the only one registered in the Urban Vineyards Association's forthcoming global directory, which features better-known city vineyards such as the 1,800 plants on the slopes of the French capital's renowned artistic district neighbourhood and over three thousand grapevines overlooking and within Turin. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the forefront of a initiative reviving city vineyards in traditional winemaking countries, but has identified them all over the world, including cities in Japan, Bangladesh and Central Asia.

"Grape gardens assist cities remain greener and more diverse. They protect open space from construction by establishing permanent, yielding agricultural units within cities," explains the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those produced in urban areas are a result of the soils the plants grow in, the vagaries of the climate and the individuals who tend the fruit. "Each vintage embodies the charm, community, environment and history of a city," notes the spokesperson.

Unknown Eastern European Variety

Back in the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to harvest the grapevines he grew from a plant abandoned in his allotment by a Eastern European household. Should the precipitation arrives, then the birds may seize their chance to feast once more. "Here we have the enigmatic Eastern European grape," he comments, as he cleans damaged and mouldy berries from the glistering clusters. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they're definitely disease-resistant. Unlike premium grapes – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and additional renowned European varieties – you need not treat them with chemicals ... this could be a unique cultivar that was bred by the Eastern Bloc."

Collective Efforts Across the City

The other members of the collective are also taking advantage of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. On the terrace overlooking Bristol's glistening harbour, where historic trading ships once bobbed with barrels of vintage from France and Spain, Katy Grant is harvesting her rondo grapes from approximately fifty vines. "I adore the aroma of these vines. The scent is so evocative," she says, pausing with a basket of fruit resting on her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you roll down the vehicle windows on vacation."

Grant, 52, who has spent over two decades working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, unexpectedly took over the vineyard when she returned to the United Kingdom from Kenya with her household in recent years. She felt an overwhelming duty to maintain the grapevines in the yard of their recently acquired property. "This vineyard has already endured three different owners," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the concept of natural stewardship – of passing this on to future caretakers so they continue producing from the soil."

Sloping Vineyards and Natural Production

Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the collective are hard at work on the steep inclines of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has cultivated over 150 vines perched on terraces in her expansive property, which descends towards the silty local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, gesturing towards the interwoven grape garden. "They can't believe they can see rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."

Today, the filmmaker, sixty, is harvesting clusters of deep violet Rondo grapes from lines of plants slung across the cliff-side with the help of her child, Luca. Scofield, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to streaming service's nature programming and television network's Gardeners' World, was motivated to cultivate vines after seeing her neighbour's grapevines. She's discovered that hobbyists can make intriguing, enjoyable natural wine, which can command prices of more than £7 a glass in the growing number of establishments focusing on low-processing vintages. "It's just incredibly satisfying that you can truly create good, natural wine," she says. "It's very on trend, but in reality it's resurrecting an traditional method of making vintage."

"When I tread the fruit, the various natural microorganisms come off the skins into the liquid," explains the winemaker, partially submerged in a bucket of tiny stems, seeds and red liquid. "That's how wines were historically produced, but industrial wineries add sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and then incorporate a commercially produced culture."

Difficult Conditions and Inventive Approaches

In the immediate vicinity active senior Bob Reeve, who motivated his neighbor to establish her vines, has gathered his friends to harvest Chardonnay grapes from the 100 plants he has arranged precisely across two terraces. Reeve, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who worked at Bristol University cultivated an interest in wine on regular visits to France. However it is a challenge to grow Chardonnay grapes in the dampness of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to produce Burgundian wines here, which is somewhat ambitious," admits the retiree with amusement. "This variety is slow-maturing and very sensitive to fungal infections."

"My goal was creating European-style vintages in this environment, which is rather ambitious"

The unpredictable Bristol climate is not the only challenge encountered by grape cultivators. Reeve has been compelled to install a barrier on