The City of Bristol's Backyard Wine Gardens: Foot-Stomping Grapes in City Gardens
Each 20 minutes or so, an older diesel train arrives at a graffiti-covered station. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm pierces the almost continuous road noise. Commuters rush by falling apart, ivy-draped garden fences as rain clouds gather.
It is perhaps the least likely spot you anticipate to find a perfectly formed grape-growing plot. But one local grower has managed to 40 mature vines heavy with plump purplish grapes on a rambling allotment sandwiched between a line of 1930s houses and a local rail line just north of the city town centre.
"I've noticed people concealing illegal substances or whatever in those bushes," states the grower. "Yet you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your grapevines."
Bayliss-Smith, 46, a filmmaker who runs a fermented beverage company, is not the only local vintner. He has pulled together a informal group of cultivators who produce wine from four discreet urban vineyards tucked away in back gardens and allotments across Bristol. It is sufficiently underground to possess an official name so far, but the collective's messaging chat is named Grape Expectations.
Urban Wine Gardens Around the World
So far, the grower's plot 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 slopes of the French capital's renowned artistic district neighbourhood and more than three thousand grapevines overlooking and within Turin. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the forefront of a movement re-establishing urban grape cultivation in historic wine-producing countries, but has identified them all over the world, including urban centers in East Asia, South Asia and Uzbekistan.
"Vineyards help cities remain greener and more diverse. These spaces protect open space from construction by establishing permanent, productive agricultural units within cities," explains the organization's leader.
Like all wines, those produced in cities are a result of the earth the vines thrive in, the vagaries of the weather and the people who care for the grapes. "A bottle of wine embodies the beauty, community, environment and history of a urban center," adds the president.
Mystery Polish Variety
Back in the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to gather the vines he grew from a plant abandoned in his garden by a Polish family. Should the rain comes, then the pigeons may seize their chance to feast once more. "This is the mystery Polish grape," he comments, as he cleans bruised and rotten grapes from the glistering clusters. "The variety remains uncertain their exact classification, but they're definitely disease-resistant. In contrast to noble varieties – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and additional renowned French grapes – you don't have to treat them with chemicals ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."
Collective Activities Throughout Bristol
Additional participants of the group are also making the most of sunny interludes between showers of autumn rain. At a rooftop garden with views of Bristol's glistening waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with casks of vintage from Europe and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is harvesting her rondo grapes from approximately 50 plants. "I adore the aroma of these vines. The scent is so evocative," she says, stopping with a basket of grapes slung over her arm. "It's the scent of Provence when you open the car windows on vacation."
The humanitarian worker, 52, who has spent over two decades working for charitable groups in conflict zones, unexpectedly inherited the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her family in recent years. She felt an strong responsibility to look after the vines in the yard of their new home. "This vineyard has already endured three different owners," she says. "I really like the idea of environmental care – of passing this on to future caretakers so they keep cultivating from the soil."
Sloping Gardens and Natural Production
Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the group are hard at work on the precipitous slopes of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has established more than one hundred fifty plants perched on ledges in her expansive property, which tumbles down towards the muddy River Avon. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she says, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "They can't believe they are viewing grapevine lines in a urban neighborhood."
Currently, Scofield, 60, is picking bunches of deep violet Rondo grapes from rows of plants arranged along the cliff-side with the help of her child, Luca. Scofield, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to streaming service's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's gardening shows, was motivated to cultivate vines after seeing her neighbor's vines. She's discovered that amateurs can make interesting, pleasurable natural wine, which can command prices of upwards of £7 a serving in the growing number of wine bars focusing on low-processing wines. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly make good, traditional vintage," she states. "It's very on trend, but really it's resurrecting an traditional method of making vintage."
"When I tread the fruit, all the natural microorganisms are released from the skins into the liquid," says Scofield, partially submerged in a container of small branches, pips and red liquid. "That's how vintages were historically produced, but industrial wineries introduce preservatives to kill the wild yeast and subsequently add a lab-grown culture."
Challenging Conditions and Inventive Solutions
A few doors down sprightly retiree another cultivator, who motivated Scofield to establish her grapevines, has gathered his friends to harvest white wine varieties from one hundred vines he has laid out neatly across multiple levels. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who taught at the local university developed a passion for wine on regular visits to France. But it is a challenge to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the valley, with temperature fluctuations moving through from the nearby estuary. "I wanted to produce French-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers," says the retiree with amusement. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and very sensitive to mildew."
"I wanted to make Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers"
The unpredictable Bristol climate is not the sole challenge encountered by winegrowers. Reeve has had to erect a fence on