Bristol's Garden Vineyards: Foot-Stomping Grapes in City Spaces
Each quarter of an hour or so, an ageing diesel-powered train pulls into a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the almost continuous road noise. Daily travelers hurry past falling apart, ivy-draped fencing panels as storm clouds gather.
It is maybe the least likely spot you expect to find a perfectly formed vineyard. But one local grower has managed to four dozen established plants sagging with round purplish berries on a rambling allotment sandwiched between a row of 1930s houses and a commuter railway just north of Bristol downtown.
"I've seen people concealing illegal substances or whatever in those bushes," says Bayliss-Smith. "But you just get on with it ... and keep tending to your vines."
The cameraman, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, is not the only urban winemaker. He has organized a informal group of cultivators who produce wine from four hidden city grape gardens tucked away in private yards and community plots across Bristol. The project is sufficiently underground to possess an official name yet, but the group's WhatsApp group is named Vineyard Dreams.
Urban Wine Gardens Around the Globe
To date, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the sole location listed in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming world atlas, which includes better-known urban wineries such as the eighteen hundred vines on the hillsides of the French capital's renowned artistic district neighbourhood and more than 3,000 grapevines with views of and inside the Italian city. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the forefront of a initiative re-establishing city vineyards in historic wine-producing countries, but has identified them throughout the world, including cities in East Asia, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.
"Grape gardens assist urban areas remain more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. These spaces preserve open space from development by establishing long-term, yielding agricultural units inside urban environments," says the organization's leader.
Like all wines, those produced in urban areas are a result of the earth the vines thrive in, the vagaries of the weather and the individuals who care for the grapes. "A bottle of wine embodies the beauty, local spirit, environment and history of a city," notes the spokesperson.
Mystery Eastern European Grapes
Returning to Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to harvest the vines he cultivated from a plant left in his garden by a Polish family. If the rain comes, then the birds may take advantage to attack again. "Here we have the enigmatic Polish grape," he says, as he cleans damaged and mouldy grapes from the shimmering bunches. "The variety remains uncertain what variety they are, but they're definitely hardy. Unlike premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and other famous French grapes – you need not treat them with chemicals ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."
Collective Activities Across the City
The other members of the collective are additionally taking advantage of sunny interludes between bursts of fall precipitation. At a rooftop garden with views of Bristol's shimmering waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with barrels of vintage from France and Spain, Katy Grant is harvesting her dark berries from about fifty plants. "I adore the aroma of the grapevines. The scent is so evocative," she remarks, pausing with a basket of grapes resting on her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you open the vehicle windows on holiday."
The humanitarian worker, fifty-two, who has spent over two decades working for charitable groups in war-torn regions, unexpectedly inherited the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her household in recent years. She felt an overwhelming duty to look after the vines in the yard of their recently acquired property. "This vineyard has already survived three different owners," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the idea of environmental care – of passing this on to someone else so they can continue producing from this land."
Sloping Gardens and Natural Winemaking
A short walk away, the remaining cultivators of the group are hard at work on the precipitous slopes of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has cultivated over 150 vines perched on ledges in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the tangled vineyard. "They can't believe they are viewing rows of vines in a city street."
Today, Scofield, sixty, is harvesting bunches of dusty purple dark berries from lines of vines arranged along the hillside with the help of her child, Luca. The conservationist, a documentary producer who has contributed to streaming service's nature programming and BBC Two's gardening shows, was motivated to plant grapes after seeing her neighbour's grapevines. She has learned that amateurs can produce interesting, enjoyable natural wine, which can sell for more than seven pounds a glass in the increasing quantity of establishments specialising in low-processing wines. "It's just incredibly satisfying that you can truly create good, natural wine," she states. "It's very on trend, but really it's reviving an old way of making vintage."
"During foot-stomping the fruit, the various wild yeasts are released from the surfaces into the juice," says Scofield, partially submerged in a bucket of tiny stems, pips and red liquid. "This represents how wines were historically produced, but commercial producers add sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently incorporate a commercially produced culture."
Challenging Conditions and Creative Approaches
A few doors down active senior Bob Reeve, who motivated his neighbor to plant her grapevines, has assembled his friends to harvest white wine varieties from one hundred vines he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who worked at Bristol University cultivated an interest in viticulture on regular visits to France. But it is a difficult task to cultivate Chardonnay grapes in the humidity of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to make Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers," says the retiree with a smile. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and very sensitive to fungal infections."
"My goal was creating European-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers"
The temperamental local weather is not the only problem faced by winegrowers. Reeve has been compelled to erect a fence on