Bristol's Backyard Vineyards: Grape-Treading Fruit in City Spaces
Every quarter of an hour or so, an ageing diesel-powered train pulls into a graffiti-covered station. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the near-constant traffic drone. Daily travelers rush by collapsing, ivy-draped fencing panels as rain clouds form.
It is perhaps the least likely spot you expect to find a perfectly formed vineyard. However James Bayliss-Smith has managed to four dozen established plants sagging with plump mauve grapes on a rambling garden plot situated between a row of historic homes and a local rail line just north of Bristol downtown.
"I've seen people concealing heroin or other items in the shrubbery," states Bayliss-Smith. "But you just get on with it ... and keep tending to your grapevines."
Bayliss-Smith, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who runs a kombucha drinks business, is not the only urban winemaker. He has pulled together a informal group of growers who produce wine from four hidden city grape gardens nestled in back gardens and allotments throughout Bristol. The project is sufficiently underground to have an formal title so far, but the collective's WhatsApp group is called Vineyard Dreams.
Urban Wine Gardens Across the Globe
So far, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the sole location listed in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming global directory, which features more famous city vineyards such as the 1,800 plants on the hillsides of Paris's renowned artistic district area and over three thousand grapevines overlooking and inside the Italian city. The Italian-based charitable organization is at the vanguard of a movement re-establishing city vineyards in historic wine-producing countries, but has identified them all over the world, including urban centers in East Asia, South Asia and Uzbekistan.
"Grape gardens assist urban areas stay more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. These spaces preserve open space from construction by establishing permanent, yielding agricultural units inside cities," says the organization's leader.
Similar to other vintages, those produced in cities are a result of the soils the vines grow in, the unpredictability of the climate and the people who tend the fruit. "A bottle of wine embodies the charm, local spirit, environment and heritage of a city," adds the spokesperson.
Unknown Polish Variety
Returning to Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to gather the vines he cultivated from a plant left in his garden by a Polish family. If the rain arrives, then the pigeons may seize their chance to attack again. "Here we have the mystery Eastern European grape," he says, as he cleans damaged and mouldy grapes from the glistering clusters. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they are certainly hardy. In contrast to premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and other famous French grapes – you need not treat them with chemicals ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Soviets."
Group Efforts Across the City
Additional participants of the collective are also making the most of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. On the terrace with views of Bristol's glistening harbour, where historic trading ships once bobbed with casks of wine from France and Spain, Katy Grant is harvesting her dark berries from approximately fifty vines. "I love the smell of the grapevines. It is so evocative," she says, pausing with a container of grapes slung over her shoulder. "It's the scent of southern France when you open the vehicle windows on vacation."
Grant, 52, who has spent over 20 years working for charitable groups in conflict zones, unexpectedly inherited the vineyard when she returned to the United Kingdom from Kenya with her household in 2018. She felt an strong responsibility to maintain the grapevines in the garden of their recently acquired property. "This vineyard has already endured multiple proprietors," she explains. "I really like the concept of environmental care – of handing this down to future caretakers so they keep cultivating from the soil."
Terraced Gardens and Natural Winemaking
Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the collective are busily laboring on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. One filmmaker has established over 150 plants perched on ledges in her wild half-acre garden, which tumbles down towards the silty local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "They can't believe they can see rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."
Currently, the filmmaker, sixty, is picking bunches of deep violet Rondo grapes from rows of plants arranged along the cliff-side with the help of her child, her family member. Scofield, a documentary producer who has contributed to streaming service's Great National Parks series and television network's Gardeners' World, was inspired to cultivate vines after seeing her neighbor's grapevines. She has learned that hobbyists can make intriguing, pleasurable traditional vintage, which can command prices of more than £7 a serving in the growing number of wine bars focusing on minimal-intervention wines. "It's just deeply rewarding that you can actually make quality, traditional vintage," she says. "It's very fashionable, but in reality it's reviving an traditional method of making wine."
"When I tread the grapes, the various wild yeasts come off the surfaces into the liquid," says Scofield, ankle deep in a container of tiny stems, pips and crimson juice. "This represents how vintages were historically produced, but industrial wineries introduce preservatives to eliminate the natural cultures and then add a lab-grown culture."
Challenging Environments and Creative Approaches
In the immediate vicinity sprightly retiree another cultivator, who inspired his neighbor to establish her grapevines, has assembled his friends to harvest Chardonnay grapes from one hundred plants he has laid out neatly across two terraces. Reeve, a northern English PE teacher who taught at Bristol University cultivated an interest in wine on regular visits to France. But it is a challenge to cultivate Chardonnay grapes in the dampness of the valley, with cooling tides sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I wanted to produce Burgundian wines in this location, which is somewhat ambitious," says the retiree with amusement. "This variety is slow-maturing and particularly vulnerable to fungal infections."
"I wanted to make European-style vintages here, which is rather ambitious"
The temperamental local weather is not the only problem encountered by winegrowers. Reeve has been compelled to erect a fence on