Bristol's Garden Wine Gardens: Foot-Stomping Grapes in Urban Spaces
Every 20 minutes or so, an older diesel-powered train arrives at a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a police siren pierces the almost continuous road noise. Daily travelers rush by collapsing, ivy-draped garden fences as storm clouds form.
It is perhaps the least likely spot you expect to find a perfectly formed grape-growing plot. However James Bayliss-Smith has managed to 40 mature vines heavy with round purplish grapes on a sprawling allotment sandwiched between a line of historic homes and a commuter railway just above the city downtown.
"I've noticed individuals concealing illegal substances or whatever in those bushes," says Bayliss-Smith. "But you just get on with it ... and keep tending to your grapevines."
Bayliss-Smith, 46, a filmmaker who runs a kombucha drinks business, is among several local vintner. He's pulled together a loose collective of cultivators who make vintage from several discreet city grape gardens nestled in private yards and community plots throughout Bristol. The project is sufficiently underground to have an formal title so far, but the group's WhatsApp group is named Vineyard Dreams.
City Vineyards Around the World
So far, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the sole location listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming global directory, which includes better-known city vineyards such as the eighteen hundred plants on the hillsides of the French capital's historic artistic district area and more than three thousand grapevines overlooking and inside the Italian city. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the vanguard of a movement re-establishing city vineyards in historic wine-producing countries, but has discovered them throughout the globe, including cities in East Asia, South Asia and Uzbekistan.
"Vineyards help cities stay more eco-friendly and more diverse. These spaces preserve open space from construction by creating long-term, yielding farming plots inside cities," explains the organization's leader.
Similar to other vintages, those created in cities are a result of the earth the plants thrive in, the vagaries of the weather and the individuals who tend the grapes. "Each vintage embodies the charm, local spirit, environment and heritage of a urban center," adds the president.
Unknown Eastern European Variety
Returning to Bristol, the grower is in a race against time to gather the vines he grew from a cutting left in his allotment by a Eastern European household. If the precipitation arrives, then the pigeons may seize their chance to feast once more. "This is the enigmatic Eastern European grape," he comments, as he removes damaged and rotten grapes from the glistering clusters. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they're definitely disease-resistant. Unlike noble varieties – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and additional renowned European varieties – you need not spray them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."
Collective Activities Throughout the City
Additional participants of the collective are additionally making the most of sunny interludes between showers of autumn rain. At a rooftop garden with views of Bristol's shimmering waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with barrels of vintage from Europe and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is harvesting her rondo grapes from approximately fifty vines. "I love the smell of these vines. It is so reminiscent," she says, stopping with a basket of fruit slung over her arm. "It's the scent of southern France when you open the car windows on vacation."
The humanitarian worker, fifty-two, who has spent over 20 years working for charitable groups in war-torn regions, inadvertently inherited the grape garden when she moved back to the United Kingdom from East Africa with her family in 2018. She experienced an overwhelming duty to look after the grapevines in the garden of their new home. "This vineyard has already survived three different owners," she explains. "I really like the concept of environmental care – of handing this down to someone else so they continue producing from the soil."
Sloping Vineyards and Natural Production
Nearby, the final two members of the group are busily laboring on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has cultivated more than one hundred fifty plants perched on ledges in her expansive property, which descends towards the silty River Avon. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, indicating the interwoven vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."
Currently, Scofield, 60, is harvesting clusters of dusty purple dark berries from lines of vines slung across the cliff-side with the assistance of her child, Luca. The conservationist, a documentary producer who has worked on streaming service's nature programming and television network's gardening shows, was inspired to cultivate vines after seeing her neighbor's grapevines. She's discovered that hobbyists can make intriguing, pleasurable traditional vintage, which can sell for upwards of £7 a serving in the increasing quantity of establishments focusing on low-processing vintages. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly make good, traditional vintage," she states. "It is quite fashionable, but really it's reviving an old way of producing vintage."
"When I tread the fruit, all the natural microorganisms are released from the surfaces and enter the juice," explains the winemaker, partially submerged in a bucket of tiny stems, seeds and red liquid. "This represents how vintages were made traditionally, but commercial producers introduce preservatives to kill the natural cultures and then add a lab-grown yeast."
Challenging Conditions and Creative Approaches
In the immediate vicinity sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who motivated his neighbor to plant her vines, has assembled his companions to harvest white wine varieties from the 100 plants he has laid out neatly across two terraces. Reeve, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who worked at the local university cultivated an interest in viticulture on annual sporting trips to Europe. However it is a difficult task to cultivate this particular variety in the humidity of the gorge, with cooling tides moving through from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to make French-style vintages in this location, which is somewhat ambitious," says the retiree with amusement. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to fungal infections."
"I wanted to make Burgundian wines in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"
The temperamental local weather is not the sole problem encountered by winegrowers. The gardener has had to install a barrier on