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Each quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel train pulls into a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the almost continuous traffic drone. Commuters hurry past falling apart, ivy-draped fencing panels as storm clouds form.

This is maybe the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established grape-growing plot. But one local grower has managed to four dozen established plants heavy with round purplish grapes on a rambling garden plot sandwiched between a line of historic homes and a commuter railway just north of the city downtown.

"I've noticed people concealing illegal substances or whatever in those bushes," says Bayliss-Smith. "But you simply continue ... and keep tending to your vines."

Bayliss-Smith, 46, a documentary cameraman who also has a kombucha drinks business, is not the only urban winemaker. He's organized a loose collective of cultivators who make vintage from four hidden urban vineyards nestled in private yards and allotments across Bristol. It is sufficiently underground to possess an formal title yet, but the group's WhatsApp group is called Vineyard Dreams.

City Wine Gardens Around the Globe

To date, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the only one listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming global directory, which includes better-known urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the slopes of Paris's renowned Montmartre area and more than 3,000 grapevines with views of and within the Italian city. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the forefront of a movement reviving city vineyards in traditional winemaking nations, but has identified them all over the world, including urban centers in Japan, South Asia and Uzbekistan.

"Vineyards assist urban areas remain greener and more diverse. They protect open space from development by creating permanent, yielding farming plots inside urban environments," says the organization's leader.

Similar to other vintages, those produced in cities are a product of the soils the plants grow in, the unpredictability of the climate and the individuals who care for the grapes. "A bottle of wine represents the charm, local spirit, landscape and heritage of a urban center," notes the spokesperson.

Unknown Polish Grapes

Returning to Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to harvest the vines he grew from a cutting abandoned in his garden by a Polish family. Should the rain arrives, then the birds may take advantage to feast once more. "Here we have the mystery Polish grape," he comments, as he cleans damaged and mouldy grapes from the shimmering bunches. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they are certainly hardy. Unlike noble varieties – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and other famous European varieties – you need not spray them with chemicals ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was developed by the Soviets."

Group Activities Across the City

The other members of the collective are additionally taking advantage of sunny interludes between showers of autumn rain. At a rooftop garden with views of Bristol's glistening waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with casks of vintage from Europe and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is collecting her rondo grapes from about fifty plants. "I love the aroma of the grapevines. It is so evocative," she remarks, pausing with a container of grapes resting on her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you roll down the car windows on vacation."

Grant, fifty-two, who has spent over 20 years working for charitable groups in war-torn regions, inadvertently inherited the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from Kenya with her family in recent years. She experienced an strong responsibility to look after the vines in the garden of their new home. "This vineyard has already endured three different owners," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the concept of natural stewardship – of handing this down to someone else so they can keep cultivating from the soil."

Terraced Gardens and Traditional Winemaking

A short walk away, the final two members of the collective are busily laboring on the steep inclines of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has established over 150 plants situated on terraces in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the silty River Avon. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the tangled vineyard. "They can't believe they are viewing grapevine lines in a urban neighborhood."

Today, the filmmaker, 60, is picking clusters of dusty purple Rondo grapes from lines of plants slung across the cliff-side with the help of her child, her family member. Scofield, a documentary producer who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and television network's Gardeners' World, was motivated to plant grapes after observing her neighbor's vines. She has learned that amateurs can produce intriguing, enjoyable natural wine, which can sell for more than £7 a glass in the growing number of establishments specialising in low-processing wines. "It's just incredibly satisfying that you can truly create quality, traditional vintage," she states. "It is quite fashionable, but in reality it's resurrecting an traditional method of making vintage."

"During foot-stomping the grapes, the various wild yeasts come off the skins and enter the liquid," says Scofield, partially submerged in a bucket of tiny stems, seeds and crimson juice. "That's how wines were historically produced, but industrial wineries introduce sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the wild yeast and subsequently add a commercially produced culture."

Difficult Environments and Creative Solutions

A few doors down active senior Bob Reeve, who motivated Scofield to establish her vines, has assembled his companions to harvest Chardonnay grapes from one hundred plants he has laid out neatly across multiple levels. The former teacher, a northern English PE teacher who taught at the local university cultivated an interest in wine on annual sporting trips to France. However it is a difficult task to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "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 fungal infections."

"I wanted to make Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers"

The temperamental Bristol climate is not the sole problem encountered by winegrowers. The gardener has been compelled to erect a barrier on