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Every quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel train arrives at a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm pierces the almost continuous road noise. Commuters hurry past falling apart, ivy-covered garden fences as rain clouds form.

It is perhaps the last place you expect to find a perfectly formed vineyard. However one local grower has cultivated 40 mature vines sagging with round purplish berries on a rambling allotment situated between a line of historic homes and a commuter railway just north of Bristol town centre.

"I've noticed individuals hiding illegal substances or other items in the shrubbery," says Bayliss-Smith. "But you simply continue ... and continue caring for your grapevines."

Bayliss-Smith, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, is among several urban winemaker. He's pulled together a loose collective of cultivators who produce wine from four discreet urban vineyards tucked away in private yards and community plots across Bristol. The project is too clandestine to have an official name yet, but the group's WhatsApp group is called Grape Expectations.

City Vineyards Across the World

So far, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the only one listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming global directory, which features more famous urban wineries such as the eighteen hundred vines on the slopes of the French capital's renowned Montmartre neighbourhood and over three thousand grapevines overlooking and within the Italian city. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the vanguard of a initiative reviving urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking nations, but has discovered them throughout the world, including cities in Japan, South Asia and Uzbekistan.

"Grape gardens help cities remain more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. These spaces protect open space from development by establishing permanent, productive farming plots within cities," explains the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those created in cities are a result of the earth the plants grow in, the unpredictability of the climate and the people who tend the fruit. "A bottle of wine embodies the charm, local spirit, landscape and heritage of a city," notes the president.

Mystery Eastern European Grapes

Returning to Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to gather the vines he grew from a cutting abandoned in his allotment by a Eastern European household. Should the precipitation comes, then the pigeons may take advantage to attack again. "This is the enigmatic Eastern European variety," he says, as he removes damaged and mouldy grapes from the glistering clusters. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they're definitely disease-resistant. In contrast to noble varieties – Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and other famous French grapes – you don't have to treat them with pesticides ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was bred by the Eastern Bloc."

Group Efforts Across Bristol

The other members of the collective are additionally taking advantage of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. At a rooftop garden with views of the city's glistening waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with casks of vintage from France and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is harvesting her rondo grapes from approximately fifty plants. "I love the aroma of the grapevines. It is so evocative," she remarks, pausing with a container of grapes resting on her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you open the vehicle windows on holiday."

The humanitarian worker, fifty-two, who has spent over 20 years working for charitable groups in war-torn regions, inadvertently took over the grape garden when she moved back to the United Kingdom from East Africa with her household in recent years. She experienced an overwhelming duty to look after the grapevines in the garden of their recently acquired property. "This plot has previously survived three different owners," she says. "I really like the idea of environmental care – of passing this on to someone else so they can keep cultivating from the soil."

Terraced Vineyards and Traditional Production

A short walk away, the final two members of the collective are busily laboring on the precipitous slopes of Avon Gorge. One filmmaker has established more than 150 vines perched on ledges in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the silty local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, gesturing towards the tangled grape garden. "They can't believe they can see grapevine lines in a city street."

Today, Scofield, sixty, is harvesting clusters of dusty purple dark berries from lines of plants arranged along the hillside with the assistance of her daughter, Luca. Scofield, a documentary producer who has worked on Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was inspired to cultivate vines after observing her neighbor's grapevines. She's discovered that amateurs can produce intriguing, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can command prices of more than seven pounds a serving in the increasing quantity of wine bars focusing on low-processing vintages. "It is deeply rewarding that you can actually create good, natural wine," she says. "It is quite fashionable, but really it's reviving an old way of producing wine."

"During foot-stomping the fruit, all the wild yeasts are released from the surfaces and enter the juice," says Scofield, partially submerged in a container of tiny stems, seeds and crimson juice. "This represents how vintages were made traditionally, but commercial producers add preservatives to kill the natural cultures and subsequently incorporate a commercially produced yeast."

Difficult Environments and Creative Solutions

In the immediate vicinity active senior Bob Reeve, who motivated his neighbor to plant her grapevines, has assembled his companions to harvest Chardonnay grapes from one hundred vines he has laid out neatly across two terraces. The former teacher, a northern English PE teacher who taught at the local university cultivated an interest in viticulture on annual sporting trips to France. However it is a difficult task to grow Chardonnay grapes in the dampness of the valley, with temperature fluctuations moving through from the Bristol Channel. "I wanted to make Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers," admits the retiree with amusement. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and very sensitive to fungal infections."

"I wanted to make Burgundian wines in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"

The unpredictable local weather is not the sole challenge encountered by winegrowers. Reeve has had to install a fence on