Bristol's Backyard Wine Gardens: Foot-Stomping Grapes in Urban Spaces
Each quarter of an hour or so, an ageing diesel railway carriage pulls into a spray-painted station. Close by, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the near-constant traffic drone. Daily travelers hurry past falling apart, ivy-draped garden fences as rain clouds gather.
It is maybe the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established grape-growing plot. But James Bayliss-Smith has cultivated four dozen established plants sagging with plump mauve grapes on a sprawling allotment sandwiched between a row of historic homes and a commuter railway just north of the city downtown.
"I've noticed people hiding illegal substances or other items in the shrubbery," states the grower. "But you simply continue ... and continue caring for your grapevines."
Bayliss-Smith, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who runs a fermented beverage company, is not the only urban winemaker. He has pulled together a loose collective of growers who produce vintage from several hidden urban vineyards nestled in back gardens and allotments across Bristol. It is too clandestine to have an official name yet, but the group's messaging chat is called Grape Expectations.
Urban Wine Gardens Around the World
So far, the grower's plot is the only one listed in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming world atlas, which features better-known city vineyards such as the 1,800 vines on the hillsides of the French capital's historic artistic district neighbourhood and more than 3,000 vines overlooking and inside Turin. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the forefront of a movement re-establishing city vineyards in historic wine-producing countries, but has identified them all over the globe, including cities in Japan, Bangladesh and Central Asia.
"Vineyards help urban areas stay more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. These spaces protect land from development by creating long-term, productive farming plots within cities," says the association's president.
Like all wines, those created in urban areas are a product of the earth the vines thrive in, the vagaries of the climate and the people who care for the fruit. "Each vintage embodies the charm, local spirit, landscape and heritage of a city," adds the spokesperson.
Unknown 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 allotment by a Polish family. If the rain comes, then the birds may seize their chance to feast once more. "Here we have the enigmatic Polish grape," he comments, as he removes bruised and mouldy berries from the glistering bunches. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they're definitely hardy. In contrast to noble varieties – Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and other famous French grapes – you don't have to treat them with chemicals ... this could be a unique cultivar that was developed by the Soviets."
Group Activities Throughout the City
Additional participants of the collective are also taking advantage of bright periods between bursts of autumn rain. On the terrace with views of the city's glistening harbour, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with casks of wine from France and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is harvesting her rondo grapes from about 50 plants. "I love the aroma of the grapevines. The scent is so evocative," she remarks, pausing with a basket of fruit resting on her shoulder. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you roll down the vehicle windows on vacation."
The humanitarian worker, fifty-two, who has devoted more than two decades working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, unexpectedly took over the vineyard when she returned to the UK from Kenya with her family in 2018. She experienced an overwhelming duty to maintain the grapevines in the garden of their new home. "This vineyard has previously endured multiple proprietors," she says. "I really like the concept of natural stewardship – of passing this on to someone else so they keep cultivating from the soil."
Terraced Vineyards and Traditional Winemaking
A short walk away, the remaining cultivators of the group are busily laboring on the steep inclines of the local river valley. One filmmaker has established more than one hundred fifty plants situated on terraces in her expansive property, which tumbles down towards the muddy River Avon. "People are always surprised," she notes, gesturing towards the tangled vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing rows of vines in a city street."
Currently, Scofield, 60, is picking bunches of dusty purple dark berries from lines of vines slung across the cliff-side with the assistance of her child, her family member. Scofield, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's gardening shows, was inspired to plant grapes after observing her neighbour's grapevines. She's discovered that amateurs can make interesting, enjoyable natural wine, which can sell for upwards of £7 a serving in the increasing quantity of establishments focusing on minimal-intervention wines. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly create good, natural wine," she says. "It's very on trend, but in reality it's reviving an traditional method of making wine."
"During foot-stomping the fruit, the various wild yeasts are released from the surfaces and enter the liquid," says Scofield, partially submerged in a bucket of tiny stems, pips and crimson juice. "That's how vintages were historically produced, but commercial producers add sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and then add a lab-grown yeast."
Challenging Environments and Creative Approaches
In the immediate vicinity active senior another cultivator, who inspired his neighbor to establish her grapevines, has assembled his companions to pick Chardonnay grapes from the 100 plants he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. Reeve, a northern English physical education instructor who worked at Bristol University developed a passion for wine on regular visits to Europe. However it is a difficult task to grow Chardonnay grapes in the humidity of the gorge, with cooling tides moving through from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to produce Burgundian wines in this location, 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 Burgundian wines here, which is rather ambitious"
The temperamental local weather is not the only challenge faced by grape cultivators. Reeve has been compelled to erect a barrier on