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Every quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel railway carriage arrives at a spray-painted station. Close by, a police siren cuts through the near-constant traffic drone. Commuters rush by falling apart, ivy-covered garden fences as storm clouds form.

This is perhaps the last place you expect to find a well-established vineyard. But James Bayliss-Smith has managed to 40 mature vines heavy with round mauve grapes on a rambling garden plot situated between a line of historic homes and a commuter railway just north of the city downtown.

"I've noticed people hiding illegal substances or whatever in the shrubbery," states the grower. "Yet you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your vines."

The cameraman, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who also has a kombucha drinks business, is not the only local vintner. He has pulled together a informal group of cultivators who make vintage from four discreet urban vineyards tucked away in private yards and community plots throughout Bristol. The project is sufficiently underground to have an formal title so far, but the collective's WhatsApp group is called Vineyard Dreams.

City Vineyards Around the World

To date, the grower's allotment is the only one registered in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming world atlas, which features better-known urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the slopes of Paris's renowned artistic district neighbourhood and over 3,000 vines overlooking and within Turin. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the vanguard of a initiative re-establishing urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking countries, but has identified them throughout the world, including cities in Japan, South Asia and Central Asia.

"Grape gardens help urban areas remain greener and more diverse. They preserve land from construction by creating permanent, yielding farming plots within urban environments," explains the association's president.

Like all wines, those produced in urban areas are a result of the soils the vines grow in, the vagaries of the weather and the individuals who tend the fruit. "Each vintage represents the charm, local spirit, environment and history of a city," notes the spokesperson.

Mystery Polish Grapes

Returning to the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to harvest the grapevines he grew from a plant left in his garden by a Eastern European household. Should the rain comes, then the birds may seize their chance to attack again. "This is the mystery Eastern European grape," he says, as he cleans damaged and mouldy grapes from the glistering bunches. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they're definitely hardy. In contrast to noble varieties – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and additional renowned French grapes – you don't have to spray them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Soviets."

Collective Efforts Across Bristol

Additional participants of the group are additionally making the most of bright periods between showers of autumn rain. At a rooftop garden with views of the city's glistening harbour, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with casks of vintage from France and Spain, Katy Grant is harvesting her dark berries from about 50 plants. "I love the aroma of these vines. It is so evocative," she remarks, pausing with a basket of fruit resting on her arm. "It's the scent of Provence when you open the car windows on vacation."

Grant, fifty-two, who has devoted more than two decades working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, unexpectedly took over the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from Kenya with her family in recent years. She felt an strong responsibility to look after the vines in the garden of their recently acquired property. "This plot has already endured multiple proprietors," she says. "I deeply appreciate the concept of environmental care – of handing this down to someone else so they can keep cultivating from this land."

Terraced Vineyards and Traditional Winemaking

Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the group are busily laboring on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. One filmmaker has cultivated over 150 plants perched on ledges in her expansive property, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "They can't believe they are viewing grapevine lines in a city street."

Currently, Scofield, sixty, is picking clusters of dusty purple Rondo grapes from lines of vines arranged along the cliff-side with the assistance of her daughter, her family member. Scofield, a documentary producer who has worked on streaming service's Great National Parks series and television network's Gardeners' World, was motivated to cultivate vines after seeing her neighbour's vines. She's discovered that hobbyists can produce interesting, enjoyable natural wine, which can sell for more than seven pounds a glass in the increasing quantity of wine bars specialising in low-processing wines. "It's just deeply rewarding that you can actually make good, traditional vintage," she says. "It's very on trend, but really it's reviving an old way of producing wine."

"When I tread the fruit, the various natural microorganisms come off the surfaces into the liquid," says Scofield, partially submerged in a bucket of tiny stems, pips and crimson juice. "That's how vintages were historically produced, but industrial wineries introduce preservatives to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently add a commercially produced culture."

Difficult Environments and Inventive Approaches

In the immediate vicinity active senior Bob Reeve, who inspired Scofield to plant her vines, has assembled his companions to harvest Chardonnay grapes from one hundred vines he has laid out neatly across multiple levels. Reeve, a northern English physical education instructor who taught at Bristol University cultivated an interest in viticulture on regular visits to France. However it is a difficult task to cultivate Chardonnay grapes in the dampness of the valley, with temperature fluctuations moving through from the nearby estuary. "I wanted to make French-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers," says the retiree with a smile. "Chardonnay is slow-maturing and very sensitive to fungal infections."

"My goal was creating European-style vintages in this environment, which is rather ambitious"

The unpredictable Bristol climate is not the sole challenge encountered by winegrowers. Reeve has been compelled to install a barrier on