The City of Bristol's Garden Wine Gardens: Foot-Stomping Fruit in Urban Spaces
Each 20 minutes or so, an older diesel train arrives at a spray-painted station. Close by, a police siren cuts through the almost continuous road noise. Commuters hurry past falling apart, ivy-covered garden fences as rain clouds form.
This is perhaps the last place you expect to find a well-established grape-growing plot. But James Bayliss-Smith has cultivated 40 mature vines sagging with round purplish grapes on a sprawling allotment situated between a line of historic homes and a local rail line just above Bristol downtown.
"I've noticed individuals concealing illegal substances or other items in the shrubbery," says Bayliss-Smith. "But you simply continue ... and keep tending to your grapevines."
The cameraman, 46, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, is not the only urban winemaker. He's organized a loose collective of growers who produce wine from four hidden city grape gardens nestled in private yards and community plots throughout Bristol. It is sufficiently underground to possess an official name so far, but the collective's WhatsApp group is named Vineyard Dreams.
City Wine Gardens Across the Globe
So far, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the only one listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming global directory, which includes better-known city vineyards such as the eighteen hundred vines on the slopes of the French capital's historic artistic district neighbourhood and more than three thousand grapevines overlooking and inside the Italian city. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the vanguard of a movement re-establishing city vineyards in traditional winemaking nations, but has identified them throughout the world, including cities in East Asia, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.
"Vineyards help cities remain greener and ecologically varied. They preserve land from development by establishing permanent, productive agricultural units inside urban environments," says the association's president.
Similar to other vintages, those created in cities are a product of the earth the plants grow in, the unpredictability of the weather and the individuals who tend the fruit. "Each vintage represents the charm, local spirit, landscape and history of a city," notes the president.
Unknown Polish Grapes
Back in Bristol, the grower is in a race against time to gather the vines he grew from a cutting abandoned in his allotment by a Polish family. Should the precipitation arrives, then the birds may seize their chance to feast once more. "This is the mystery Eastern European variety," he says, as he cleans bruised and mouldy grapes from the shimmering bunches. "The variety remains uncertain their exact classification, but they're definitely hardy. In contrast to premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and other famous European varieties – you need not spray them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was bred by the Eastern Bloc."
Group Activities Throughout the City
The other members of the group are additionally taking advantage of sunny interludes between bursts of fall precipitation. At a rooftop garden overlooking Bristol's shimmering waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with barrels of wine from Europe and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is harvesting her dark berries from about fifty plants. "I adore the smell of the grapevines. It is so evocative," she says, pausing with a basket of fruit resting on her shoulder. "It's the scent of southern France when you roll down the car windows on vacation."
Grant, 52, who has devoted more than 20 years working for charitable groups in conflict zones, inadvertently inherited the vineyard when she returned to the UK from East Africa with her household in 2018. She felt an overwhelming duty to maintain the vines in the garden of their new home. "This vineyard has already endured multiple proprietors," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the idea of environmental care – of handing this down to someone else so they keep cultivating from the soil."
Terraced Gardens and Traditional Winemaking
A short walk away, the remaining cultivators of the group are busily laboring on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. One filmmaker has established more than 150 plants situated on terraces in her expansive property, which descends towards the muddy River Avon. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the tangled grape garden. "It's astonishing to them they can see grapevine lines in a urban neighborhood."
Currently, the filmmaker, 60, is picking bunches of deep violet dark berries from lines of plants arranged along the hillside with the assistance of her child, Luca. Scofield, a documentary producer who has worked on streaming service's Great National Parks series and television network's Gardeners' World, was inspired to plant grapes after observing her neighbour's grapevines. She has learned that amateurs can produce interesting, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can command prices of upwards of seven pounds a serving in the increasing quantity of wine bars focusing on low-processing vintages. "It's just incredibly satisfying that you can truly create quality, natural wine," she says. "It's very on trend, but in reality it's resurrecting an traditional method of making wine."
"During foot-stomping the grapes, all the wild yeasts come off the skins into the liquid," says the winemaker, partially submerged in a bucket of small branches, pips and crimson juice. "This represents how vintages were historically produced, but industrial wineries introduce preservatives to eliminate the natural cultures and then incorporate a commercially produced culture."
Difficult Environments and Inventive Approaches
In the immediate vicinity active senior another cultivator, who motivated Scofield to plant her grapevines, has gathered his companions to pick white wine varieties from one hundred vines he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. Reeve, a northern English PE teacher who taught at the local university developed a passion for wine on regular visits to Europe. But 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 Bristol Channel. "I aimed to make French-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers," admits Reeve with amusement. "This variety is late to ripen and very sensitive to fungal infections."
"My goal was creating European-style vintages in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"
The unpredictable local weather is not the sole problem faced by grape cultivators. The gardener has had to erect a fence on