The City of Bristol's Backyard Vineyards: Foot-Stomping Fruit in Urban Spaces
Each quarter of an hour or so, an ageing diesel-powered train arrives at a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a police siren cuts through the almost continuous road noise. Commuters rush by falling apart, ivy-covered fencing panels as storm clouds gather.
It is maybe the least likely spot you expect to find a perfectly formed grape-growing plot. However James Bayliss-Smith has cultivated 40 mature vines heavy with round mauve grapes on a sprawling garden plot situated between a line of historic homes and a local rail line just above Bristol town centre.
"I've noticed people hiding heroin or other items in those bushes," states Bayliss-Smith. "But you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your vines."
The cameraman, 46, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, is not the only local vintner. He has pulled together a loose collective of cultivators who produce wine from several discreet urban vineyards nestled in back gardens and allotments throughout the city. The project is too clandestine to have an formal title so far, but the collective's messaging chat is named Vineyard Dreams.
Urban Wine Gardens Across the World
So far, the grower's allotment is the sole location registered in the Urban Vineyards Association's forthcoming world atlas, which features more famous city vineyards such as the 1,800 vines on the slopes of the French capital's renowned artistic district neighbourhood and more than 3,000 grapevines overlooking and within Turin. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the forefront of a initiative reviving city vineyards in traditional winemaking nations, but has identified them all over the world, including urban centers in Japan, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.
"Vineyards assist cities stay greener and more diverse. These spaces protect open space from construction by creating permanent, productive farming plots inside urban environments," says the association's president.
Like all wines, those created in urban areas are a result of the soils the vines grow in, the vagaries of the weather and the people who tend the grapes. "A bottle of wine represents the beauty, community, landscape and history of a urban center," notes the president.
Mystery Eastern European Variety
Back in Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to harvest the vines he grew from a cutting abandoned in his allotment by a Eastern European household. If the rain comes, then the birds may seize their chance to attack once more. "This is the mystery Eastern European grape," he says, as he cleans damaged and mouldy grapes from the shimmering bunches. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they're definitely disease-resistant. Unlike noble varieties – Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and additional renowned European varieties – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this is possibly a special variety that was bred by the Soviets."
Collective Activities Throughout Bristol
Additional participants of the collective are also making the most of bright periods between bursts of fall precipitation. At a rooftop garden with views of the city's glistening waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with barrels of vintage from France and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is collecting her rondo grapes from approximately 50 plants. "I love the aroma of these vines. It is so reminiscent," she remarks, stopping with a container of fruit slung over her shoulder. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you roll down the vehicle windows on vacation."
Grant, 52, who has spent over 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, unexpectedly took over the grape garden when she moved back to the United Kingdom from Kenya with her family in 2018. She experienced an overwhelming duty to look after the grapevines in the yard of their new home. "This plot has previously survived three different owners," she says. "I deeply appreciate the idea of natural stewardship – of passing this on to someone else so they continue producing from the soil."
Sloping Vineyards and Natural Winemaking
Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the collective are busily laboring on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has cultivated more than 150 plants perched on terraces in her expansive property, which descends towards the silty River Avon. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she says, gesturing towards the tangled grape garden. "It's astonishing to them they can see grapevine lines in a urban neighborhood."
Currently, the filmmaker, sixty, is picking clusters of deep violet dark berries from lines of plants arranged along the hillside 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 gardening shows, was motivated to cultivate vines after observing her neighbor's vines. She has learned that hobbyists can produce intriguing, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can command prices of upwards of £7 a glass in the increasing quantity of wine bars focusing on low-processing wines. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly create good, natural wine," she states. "It's very fashionable, but really it's reviving an old way of making vintage."
"During foot-stomping the grapes, the various natural microorganisms come off the skins into the juice," says Scofield, ankle deep in a bucket of small branches, pips and red liquid. "This represents how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries add sulphur [dioxide] to kill the wild yeast and then incorporate a lab-grown yeast."
Difficult Environments and Inventive Approaches
In the immediate vicinity sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who inspired Scofield to establish her grapevines, has gathered his friends to harvest Chardonnay grapes from one hundred vines he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. Reeve, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who taught at Bristol University cultivated an interest in wine on annual sporting trips to France. However it is a challenge to cultivate this particular variety in the dampness of the valley, with temperature fluctuations moving through from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to produce Burgundian wines in this location, which is somewhat ambitious," says the retiree with a smile. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to fungal infections."
"I wanted to make European-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers"
The unpredictable local weather is not the sole challenge encountered by grape cultivators. The gardener has been compelled to install a fence on