The City of Bristol's Backyard Wine Gardens: Grape-Treading Grapes in City Spaces
Each quarter of an hour or so, an ageing diesel-powered railway carriage arrives at a graffiti-covered station. Close by, a law enforcement alarm pierces the near-constant traffic drone. Daily travelers rush by falling apart, ivy-covered garden fences as storm clouds form.
It is maybe the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established grape-growing plot. But James Bayliss-Smith has managed to 40 mature vines sagging with round mauve grapes on a rambling garden plot sandwiched between a line of historic homes and a commuter railway just north of Bristol downtown.
"I've noticed individuals concealing illegal substances or other items in those bushes," says Bayliss-Smith. "But you simply continue ... and keep tending to your grapevines."
The cameraman, 46, a filmmaker who runs a kombucha drinks business, is not the only urban winemaker. He's organized a informal group of cultivators who produce wine from several discreet city grape gardens nestled in back gardens and allotments across Bristol. It is sufficiently underground to have an official name yet, but the group's WhatsApp group is called Grape Expectations.
Urban Vineyards Around the World
So far, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the only one listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's forthcoming world atlas, which features more famous urban wineries such as the 1,800 vines on the slopes of Paris's renowned Montmartre neighbourhood and over 3,000 vines with views of and inside Turin. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the vanguard of a initiative re-establishing city vineyards in traditional winemaking nations, but has discovered them throughout the world, including cities in East Asia, South Asia and Uzbekistan.
"Vineyards assist urban areas stay greener and more diverse. These spaces preserve land from construction by creating permanent, productive agricultural units within cities," explains the association's president.
Similar to other vintages, those created in cities are a product of the soils the vines grow in, the unpredictability of the weather and the individuals who care for the grapes. "A bottle of wine represents the charm, local spirit, environment and heritage of a urban center," notes the president.
Unknown Eastern European Variety
Back in Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to harvest the grapevines he cultivated from a plant left in his allotment by a Eastern European household. If the rain arrives, then the birds may seize their chance to attack again. "This is the mystery Polish variety," he says, as he cleans damaged and rotten grapes from the glistering bunches. "The variety remains uncertain their exact classification, but they are certainly hardy. In contrast to noble varieties – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and other famous French grapes – you don't have to treat them with pesticides ... this could be a unique cultivar that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."
Collective Efforts Throughout the City
The other members of the group are additionally taking advantage of sunny interludes between bursts of fall precipitation. On the terrace with views of the city's shimmering waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with casks of vintage from Europe and Spain, Katy Grant is collecting her rondo grapes from about fifty plants. "I love the aroma of these vines. The scent is so evocative," she remarks, stopping with a basket of fruit slung over her shoulder. "It's the scent of southern France when you roll down the vehicle windows on holiday."
The humanitarian worker, fifty-two, who has spent over 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in war-torn regions, unexpectedly inherited the grape garden when she returned to the United Kingdom from East Africa with her family in recent years. She felt an strong responsibility to maintain the grapevines in the garden of their new home. "This plot has previously survived three different owners," she says. "I deeply appreciate the concept of environmental care – of passing this on to future caretakers so they continue producing from the soil."
Terraced Gardens and Traditional Winemaking
A short walk away, the remaining cultivators of the collective are hard at work on the precipitous slopes of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has cultivated more than one hundred fifty vines perched on terraces in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the muddy River Avon. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, gesturing towards the interwoven vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."
Currently, Scofield, 60, is harvesting clusters of deep violet dark berries from rows of plants arranged along the cliff-side with the assistance of her daughter, her family member. Scofield, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has worked on streaming service's Great National Parks series and television network's Gardeners' World, was motivated to plant grapes after observing her neighbor's vines. She's discovered that hobbyists can make intriguing, pleasurable natural wine, which can sell for more than £7 a serving in the growing number of establishments focusing on low-processing wines. "It is incredibly satisfying that you can truly create good, traditional vintage," she says. "It's very on trend, but in reality it's reviving an traditional method of producing wine."
"During foot-stomping the fruit, all the natural microorganisms come off the skins and enter the juice," says the winemaker, partially submerged in a bucket of small branches, seeds and crimson juice. "That's how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries introduce preservatives to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently incorporate a commercially produced culture."
Challenging Environments and Creative Solutions
In the immediate vicinity sprightly retiree another cultivator, who motivated his neighbor to establish her vines, has assembled his companions to pick white wine varieties from one hundred vines he has arranged precisely across two terraces. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who worked at Bristol University cultivated an interest in wine on annual sporting trips to France. However it is a challenge to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I aimed to produce French-style vintages here, which is a bit bonkers," says the retiree with amusement. "This variety is slow-maturing and particularly vulnerable to fungal infections."
"My goal was creating Burgundian wines in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"
The temperamental Bristol climate is not the only problem encountered by grape cultivators. Reeve has had to install a barrier on