Bristol's Backyard Wine Gardens: Foot-Stomping Fruit in Urban Gardens
Each 20 minutes or so, an older diesel railway carriage arrives at a graffiti-covered station. Close by, a police siren cuts through the almost continuous traffic drone. Commuters rush by falling apart, ivy-draped garden fences as storm clouds form.
This is perhaps the last place you anticipate to find a well-established vineyard. But James Bayliss-Smith has cultivated four dozen established plants sagging with plump purplish grapes on a sprawling allotment sandwiched between a line of 1930s houses and a commuter railway just north of Bristol town centre.
"I've seen individuals concealing illegal substances or other items in those bushes," states Bayliss-Smith. "Yet you simply continue ... and keep tending to your grapevines."
The cameraman, 46, a filmmaker who runs a fermented beverage company, is not the only urban winemaker. He's pulled together a informal group of growers who make vintage from several discreet urban vineyards nestled in private yards and community plots throughout Bristol. It is sufficiently underground to have an official name yet, but the collective's messaging chat is called Vineyard Dreams.
Urban Wine Gardens Across the World
To date, the grower's plot is the only one registered in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming world atlas, which features more famous urban wineries such as the 1,800 vines on the slopes of the French capital's renowned artistic district neighbourhood and more than 3,000 grapevines with views of and inside the Italian city. The Italian-based charitable organization is at the forefront of a movement re-establishing city vineyards in traditional winemaking nations, but has identified them all over the globe, including urban centers in East Asia, Bangladesh and Central Asia.
"Vineyards assist urban areas remain greener and ecologically varied. These spaces protect land from construction by creating permanent, productive agricultural units within urban environments," says the association's president.
Similar to other vintages, those created in urban areas are a result of the earth the plants grow in, the vagaries of the climate and the people who care for the grapes. "Each vintage embodies the charm, local spirit, environment and history of a city," adds the president.
Mystery Eastern European Variety
Back in the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to harvest the grapevines he cultivated from a cutting abandoned in his allotment by a Polish family. Should the rain arrives, then the birds may take advantage to attack again. "This is the enigmatic Eastern European grape," he comments, as he cleans damaged and rotten berries from the glistering clusters. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they're definitely disease-resistant. Unlike premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and other famous European varieties – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this is possibly a special variety that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."
Group Efforts Throughout the City
Additional participants of the collective are additionally making the most of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. On the terrace with views of Bristol's shimmering harbour, where historic trading ships once floated with casks of vintage from Europe and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is collecting her rondo grapes from approximately 50 vines. "I love the aroma of these vines. It is so evocative," she remarks, pausing with a container of grapes resting on her shoulder. "It's the scent of southern France when you roll down the vehicle windows on holiday."
The humanitarian worker, 52, who has spent over 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in war-torn regions, inadvertently took over the grape garden when she returned to the UK from Kenya with her family in 2018. She felt an overwhelming duty to look after the vines in the yard of their new home. "This vineyard has already survived multiple proprietors," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the idea of natural stewardship – of passing this on to someone else so they can keep cultivating from this land."
Terraced Gardens and Natural Winemaking
Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the collective are hard at work on the steep inclines of the local river valley. One filmmaker has established more than 150 vines situated on terraces in her expansive property, which descends towards the muddy River Avon. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, gesturing towards the interwoven vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they can see rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."
Today, Scofield, 60, is picking clusters of dusty purple Rondo grapes from lines of plants arranged along the cliff-side with the help of her daughter, Luca. The conservationist, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was motivated to cultivate vines after seeing her neighbor's vines. She has learned that amateurs can produce intriguing, pleasurable natural wine, which can command prices of more than seven pounds a glass in the increasing quantity of establishments specialising in low-processing vintages. "It's just deeply rewarding that you can actually make good, natural wine," she says. "It's very on trend, but really it's resurrecting an old way of making vintage."
"During foot-stomping the grapes, all the wild yeasts come off the skins into the liquid," says Scofield, partially submerged in a container of tiny stems, seeds and red liquid. "This represents how wines were historically produced, but commercial producers add preservatives to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently incorporate a lab-grown culture."
Challenging Conditions and Inventive Approaches
A few doors down sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who inspired Scofield to establish her vines, has gathered his companions to pick Chardonnay grapes from the 100 plants he has laid out neatly across two terraces. Reeve, a Lancashire-born physical education instructor who worked at the local university developed a passion for viticulture on annual sporting trips to Europe. But it is a challenge to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the gorge, with temperature fluctuations moving through from the Bristol Channel. "I aimed to make French-style vintages in this location, which is a bit bonkers," admits Reeve 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 temperamental local weather is not the sole problem encountered by grape cultivators. Reeve has been compelled to install a barrier on