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Every quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel railway carriage arrives at a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the near-constant traffic drone. Daily travelers rush by collapsing, ivy-covered fencing panels as storm clouds gather.

It is perhaps the last place you expect to find a perfectly formed vineyard. But one local grower has cultivated 40 mature vines sagging with round mauve berries on a sprawling garden plot situated between a row of 1930s houses and a commuter railway just north of Bristol downtown.

"I've seen individuals hiding heroin or other items in the shrubbery," says Bayliss-Smith. "Yet you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your grapevines."

The cameraman, 46, a filmmaker who also has a fermented beverage company, is not the only local vintner. He has pulled together a loose collective of growers who make vintage from several discreet city grape gardens tucked away in back gardens and community plots across the city. The project is sufficiently underground to have an official name yet, but the group's messaging chat is named Vineyard Dreams.

Urban Vineyards Across the Globe

To date, the grower's allotment is the only one registered in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming global directory, which includes more famous urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the hillsides of the French capital's historic artistic district neighbourhood and over 3,000 vines overlooking and within Turin. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the vanguard of a movement reviving urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking nations, but has discovered them all over the globe, including cities in East Asia, South Asia and Uzbekistan.

"Vineyards assist cities stay greener and more diverse. These spaces preserve land from development by creating long-term, productive agricultural units within urban environments," says the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those produced in urban areas are a product of the earth the vines grow in, the unpredictability of the climate and the people who care for the fruit. "A bottle of wine embodies the charm, local spirit, environment and history of a city," notes the spokesperson.

Mystery Polish Variety

Back in the city, the grower is in a urgent timeline to harvest the grapevines he grew from a plant abandoned in his allotment by a Eastern European household. If the rain arrives, then the birds may seize their chance to feast once more. "Here we have the mystery Eastern European variety," he comments, as he removes damaged and rotten berries from the glistering bunches. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they are certainly hardy. In contrast to premium grapes – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and additional renowned European varieties – you need not spray them with chemicals ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."

Group Efforts Throughout the City

The other members of the collective are also making the most of sunny interludes between showers of fall precipitation. On the terrace overlooking Bristol's glistening waterfront, where historic trading ships once floated with barrels of wine from Europe and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is collecting her dark berries from about 50 plants. "I love the aroma of the grapevines. It is so evocative," she says, pausing with a basket of grapes slung over her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you open the vehicle windows on holiday."

Grant, 52, who has devoted more than 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in war-torn regions, inadvertently inherited the grape garden when she returned to the United Kingdom from Kenya with her household in recent years. She felt an overwhelming duty to look after the grapevines in the yard of their recently acquired property. "This vineyard has already endured multiple proprietors," she explains. "I really like the concept of natural stewardship – of passing this on to someone else so they continue producing from the soil."

Sloping Vineyards and Natural Production

A short walk away, the final two members of the collective are hard at work on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has established over 150 vines perched on terraces in her wild half-acre garden, which tumbles down towards the silty local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "They can't believe they are viewing rows of vines in a city street."

Today, Scofield, sixty, is harvesting bunches of deep violet dark berries from rows of vines arranged along the cliff-side with the help of her child, her family member. The conservationist, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has worked on streaming service's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's gardening shows, was inspired to cultivate vines after observing her neighbor's grapevines. She has learned that amateurs can make interesting, pleasurable traditional vintage, which can command prices of upwards of seven pounds a serving in the growing number of wine bars specialising in low-processing vintages. "It's just incredibly satisfying that you can actually create good, natural wine," she states. "It is quite fashionable, but really it's resurrecting an old way of making wine."

"During foot-stomping the grapes, the various natural microorganisms are released from the surfaces into the liquid," explains Scofield, partially submerged in a bucket of tiny stems, pips and red liquid. "That's how wines were made traditionally, but industrial wineries add preservatives to eliminate the wild yeast and then add a lab-grown yeast."

Challenging Conditions and Creative Approaches

A few doors down active senior Bob Reeve, who motivated his neighbor to establish her vines, has assembled his friends to harvest Chardonnay grapes from one hundred vines he has laid out neatly across multiple levels. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born physical education instructor who worked at the local university developed a passion for viticulture 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 here, which is somewhat ambitious," says the retiree with a smile. "This variety is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to fungal infections."

"My goal was creating Burgundian wines in this environment, which is rather ambitious"

The unpredictable Bristol climate is not the sole challenge encountered by winegrowers. Reeve has had to erect a barrier on