Bristol's Garden Wine Gardens: Grape-Treading Grapes in City Gardens
Each 20 minutes or so, an ageing diesel railway carriage pulls into a spray-painted station. Nearby, a police siren cuts through the almost continuous road noise. Daily travelers rush by falling apart, ivy-covered garden fences as rain clouds form.
This is maybe the last place you expect to find a well-established vineyard. However James Bayliss-Smith has managed to four dozen established plants sagging with round purplish grapes on a sprawling garden plot situated between a row of 1930s houses and a commuter railway just above Bristol town centre.
"I've noticed people hiding heroin or other items in the shrubbery," says the grower. "Yet you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your vines."
Bayliss-Smith, 46, a filmmaker who runs a fermented beverage company, is among several local vintner. He's pulled together a loose collective of cultivators who make wine from four hidden city grape gardens tucked away in back gardens and community plots across Bristol. The project is sufficiently underground to possess an formal title so far, but the group's WhatsApp group is called Grape Expectations.
City Wine Gardens Around the World
To date, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the only one registered in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming global directory, which features more famous city vineyards such as the 1,800 vines on the slopes of Paris's renowned artistic district neighbourhood and more than three thousand grapevines with views of and within Turin. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the vanguard of a initiative re-establishing urban grape cultivation in historic wine-producing nations, but has discovered them throughout the world, including cities in East Asia, South Asia and Central Asia.
"Grape gardens help urban areas stay more eco-friendly and more diverse. They preserve land from construction by establishing permanent, yielding farming plots inside cities," explains the association's president.
Similar to other vintages, those produced in cities are a product of the soils the plants thrive in, the vagaries of the weather and the individuals who care for the fruit. "A bottle of wine embodies the charm, local spirit, landscape and heritage of a city," notes the president.
Unknown Polish Variety
Returning to the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a race against time to harvest the grapevines he grew from a cutting abandoned in his allotment by a Eastern European household. If the precipitation arrives, then the pigeons may take advantage to feast once more. "Here we have the mystery Eastern European variety," he comments, as he cleans bruised and rotten berries from the glistering bunches. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they are certainly disease-resistant. In contrast to premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and other famous French grapes – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Soviets."
Group Activities Throughout Bristol
Additional participants of the collective are also making the most of sunny interludes between bursts of fall precipitation. On the terrace with views of Bristol's glistening harbour, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with barrels of wine from Europe and Spain, one cultivator is harvesting her dark berries from approximately 50 vines. "I love the smell of the grapevines. The scent is so evocative," she says, pausing with a container of fruit resting on her arm. "It's the scent of Provence when you roll down the vehicle windows on vacation."
Grant, 52, who has spent over 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, unexpectedly inherited the vineyard when she returned to the United Kingdom from East Africa with her family in 2018. She felt an strong responsibility to look after the vines in the garden of their new home. "This plot has previously survived three different owners," she explains. "I really like the concept of environmental care – of handing this down to someone else so they keep cultivating from the soil."
Terraced Vineyards and Natural Winemaking
A short walk away, the final two members of the group are busily laboring on the steep inclines of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has cultivated over one hundred fifty vines perched on terraces in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the muddy River Avon. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the tangled vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."
Today, the filmmaker, 60, is picking bunches of deep violet Rondo grapes from lines of vines slung across the hillside with the assistance of her child, Luca. The conservationist, a documentary producer who has contributed to streaming service's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was inspired to cultivate vines after observing her neighbor's vines. She's discovered that amateurs can make interesting, pleasurable traditional vintage, which can sell for upwards of £7 a glass in the increasing quantity of establishments specialising in low-processing wines. "It's just deeply rewarding that you can truly create quality, natural wine," she says. "It's very fashionable, but really it's reviving an old way of making vintage."
"During foot-stomping the fruit, the various wild yeasts are released from the skins into the liquid," explains the winemaker, ankle deep in a bucket of tiny stems, seeds and red liquid. "That's how vintages were made traditionally, but commercial producers add sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently add a commercially produced yeast."
Difficult Conditions and Creative Solutions
In the immediate vicinity active senior another cultivator, who motivated Scofield to plant her grapevines, has assembled his friends to harvest white wine varieties from the 100 vines he has laid out neatly across multiple levels. The former teacher, a northern English PE teacher who worked at the local university developed a passion for wine on regular visits to Europe. But it is a challenge to cultivate Chardonnay grapes in the humidity of the gorge, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I wanted to make French-style vintages in this location, which is a bit bonkers," says the retiree with amusement. "This variety is slow-maturing and very sensitive to fungal infections."
"My goal was creating Burgundian wines in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"
The temperamental Bristol climate is not the sole challenge encountered by grape cultivators. The gardener has been compelled to install a barrier on