Bristol's Backyard Vineyards: Grape-Treading Grapes in City Spaces
Every quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel-powered railway carriage pulls into a spray-painted station. Close by, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the almost continuous road noise. Daily travelers hurry past falling apart, ivy-draped garden fences as rain clouds form.
This is maybe the last place you expect to find a well-established vineyard. However James Bayliss-Smith has cultivated 40 mature vines sagging with round mauve berries on a rambling garden plot situated between a row of 1930s houses and a local rail line just above the city downtown.
"I've seen individuals hiding illegal substances or other items in those bushes," says Bayliss-Smith. "But you simply continue ... and continue caring for your vines."
Bayliss-Smith, 46, a filmmaker who also has a fermented beverage company, is among several local vintner. He's pulled together a informal group of cultivators who make vintage from several discreet city grape gardens tucked away in back gardens and allotments across Bristol. The project is too clandestine to possess an official name yet, but the collective's WhatsApp group is called Vineyard Dreams.
City Vineyards Around the Globe
To date, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the sole location registered in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming world atlas, which includes more famous city vineyards such as the eighteen hundred plants on the hillsides of the French capital's renowned artistic district neighbourhood and over 3,000 vines with views of and inside Turin. The Italian-based charitable organization is at the vanguard of a movement reviving city vineyards in traditional winemaking countries, but has identified them all over the globe, including cities in East Asia, South Asia and Uzbekistan.
"Grape gardens assist urban areas stay more eco-friendly and more diverse. They protect open space from construction by creating permanent, productive agricultural units within urban environments," explains the organization's leader.
Like all wines, those created in cities are a result of the soils the plants thrive in, the vagaries of the weather and the people who tend the fruit. "Each vintage embodies the charm, community, environment and history of a urban center," notes the spokesperson.
Mystery Eastern European Variety
Back in Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to harvest the vines he grew from a plant abandoned in his allotment by a Polish family. Should the rain arrives, then the pigeons may take advantage to attack once more. "Here we have the mystery Polish variety," he says, as he removes bruised and rotten berries from the shimmering bunches. "The variety remains uncertain their exact classification, but they are certainly disease-resistant. In contrast to noble varieties – Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and other famous European varieties – you need not treat them with chemicals ... this could be a unique cultivar that was developed by the Soviets."
Group Activities Across the City
Additional participants of the collective are also taking advantage of sunny interludes between bursts of fall precipitation. On the terrace overlooking the city's shimmering harbour, where historic trading ships once bobbed with casks of vintage from France and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is harvesting her rondo grapes from about 50 plants. "I adore the smell of the grapevines. It is so reminiscent," she says, stopping with a container of grapes slung over her shoulder. "It's the scent of Provence when you roll down the car windows on holiday."
Grant, fifty-two, who has devoted more than 20 years working for charitable groups in conflict zones, inadvertently took over the grape garden when she returned to the UK from East Africa with her household in recent years. She experienced an overwhelming duty to maintain the grapevines in the yard of their new home. "This plot has previously survived three different owners," she says. "I really like the concept of environmental care – of handing this down to future caretakers so they can keep cultivating from the soil."
Terraced Vineyards and Natural Production
A short walk away, the final two members of the group are busily laboring on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. One filmmaker has established over one hundred fifty plants perched on ledges in her expansive property, which descends towards the silty River Avon. "People are always surprised," she notes, gesturing towards the tangled grape garden. "They can't believe they are viewing rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."
Today, Scofield, 60, is picking clusters of dusty purple dark berries from rows of plants arranged along the hillside with the help of her child, Luca. Scofield, a documentary producer who has worked on streaming service's nature programming and television network's gardening shows, was motivated to plant grapes after seeing her neighbour's vines. She has learned that hobbyists can make intriguing, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can command prices of upwards of seven pounds a serving in the increasing quantity of wine bars focusing on minimal-intervention wines. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly make good, natural wine," she says. "It's very fashionable, but really it's resurrecting an traditional method of producing wine."
"When I tread the fruit, the various wild yeasts come off the surfaces into the juice," says the winemaker, ankle deep in a container of small branches, seeds and crimson juice. "That's how vintages were made traditionally, but commercial producers introduce sulphur [dioxide] to kill the wild yeast and then incorporate a lab-grown culture."
Challenging Environments and Inventive Approaches
A few doors down active senior another cultivator, who motivated his neighbor to establish her vines, has gathered his friends to harvest white wine varieties from the 100 vines he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born physical education instructor who worked at Bristol University developed a passion for wine on annual sporting trips to Europe. However it is a difficult task to cultivate this particular variety in the humidity of the valley, with cooling tides moving through from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to make French-style vintages here, which is somewhat ambitious," admits Reeve with a smile. "This variety is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to mildew."
"I wanted to make Burgundian wines in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"
The temperamental local weather is not the sole problem faced by grape cultivators. The gardener has had to erect a fence on