The City of Bristol's Garden Vineyards: Grape-Treading Fruit in City Spaces
Every quarter of an hour or so, an ageing diesel-powered railway carriage arrives at a spray-painted stop. Nearby, a police siren pierces the near-constant traffic drone. Daily travelers hurry past collapsing, ivy-draped fencing panels as rain clouds form.
It is maybe the last place you expect to find a perfectly formed grape-growing plot. But one local grower has cultivated four dozen established plants sagging with plump mauve grapes on a rambling garden plot sandwiched between a row of historic homes and a commuter railway just north of Bristol downtown.
"I've seen people hiding illegal substances or whatever in the shrubbery," says Bayliss-Smith. "But you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your grapevines."
The cameraman, 46, a documentary cameraman who also has a kombucha drinks business, is not the only local vintner. He has organized a loose collective of growers who make vintage from several discreet city grape gardens nestled in private yards and community plots throughout Bristol. It is too clandestine to possess an formal title yet, but the collective's WhatsApp group is called Vineyard Dreams.
City Wine Gardens Across the World
To date, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the only one listed in the City Vineyard Network's forthcoming global directory, which features better-known city vineyards such as the eighteen hundred vines on the hillsides of the French capital's renowned Montmartre neighbourhood and over 3,000 grapevines overlooking and inside Turin. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the vanguard of a initiative reviving city vineyards in historic wine-producing nations, but has discovered them throughout the world, including cities in East Asia, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.
"Grape gardens help cities remain more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. These spaces protect land from construction by establishing permanent, yielding farming plots within urban environments," explains the association's president.
Like all wines, those created in urban areas are a product of the earth the vines grow in, the vagaries of the weather and the people who care for the fruit. "A bottle of wine embodies the charm, community, environment and heritage of a urban center," adds the president.
Mystery Polish Grapes
Returning to the city, the grower is in a urgent timeline to gather the vines he grew from a cutting left in his allotment by a Eastern European household. Should the precipitation arrives, then the birds may take advantage to attack once more. "Here we have the mystery Polish grape," he comments, as he cleans bruised and rotten grapes from the glistering bunches. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they're definitely disease-resistant. Unlike premium grapes – Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and other famous French grapes – you need not treat them with chemicals ... this could be a special variety that was bred by the Eastern Bloc."
Group Efforts Across Bristol
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 shimmering harbour, where historic trading ships once bobbed with casks of vintage from France and Spain, Katy Grant is collecting her rondo grapes from about fifty plants. "I love the smell of these vines. It is so reminiscent," she remarks, stopping with a container of fruit slung over her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you roll down the car windows on vacation."
The humanitarian worker, 52, who has spent over two decades working for charitable groups in war-torn regions, unexpectedly inherited the grape garden when she returned to the United Kingdom from East Africa with her household in 2018. She felt an overwhelming duty to look after the vines in the garden of their new home. "This plot has already survived multiple proprietors," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the concept of natural stewardship – of passing this on to future caretakers so they can continue producing from this land."
Sloping Vineyards and Traditional Production
A short walk away, the remaining cultivators of the collective are hard at work on the steep inclines of the local river valley. One filmmaker has cultivated over 150 plants perched on terraces in her expansive property, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, indicating the tangled vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing grapevine lines in a city street."
Currently, Scofield, sixty, is harvesting bunches of deep violet dark berries from rows of plants arranged along the hillside with the help of her daughter, Luca. The conservationist, a wildlife and conservation film-maker 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 neighbor's vines. She has learned that amateurs can produce interesting, enjoyable natural wine, which can command prices of more than seven pounds a glass in the increasing quantity of establishments focusing on low-processing vintages. "It's just incredibly satisfying that you can actually create good, traditional vintage," she states. "It's very on trend, but really it's resurrecting an traditional method of producing vintage."
"When I tread the grapes, all the natural microorganisms are released from the skins into the juice," says Scofield, partially submerged in a container of small branches, seeds and red liquid. "That's how vintages were historically produced, but commercial producers introduce sulphur [dioxide] to kill the natural cultures and subsequently add a lab-grown culture."
Challenging Conditions and Creative Approaches
A few doors down active senior Bob Reeve, who inspired his neighbor to establish her vines, has gathered his companions to pick white wine varieties from the 100 plants he has arranged precisely across two terraces. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who taught at Bristol University cultivated an interest in wine on annual sporting trips to Europe. But it is a challenge to cultivate this particular variety in the dampness of the valley, with cooling tides moving through from the Bristol Channel. "I wanted to produce Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers," admits the retiree with a smile. "This variety is slow-maturing and very sensitive to fungal infections."
"I wanted to make Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers"
The temperamental local weather is not the only challenge encountered by grape cultivators. Reeve has had to install a barrier on