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Every quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel railway carriage pulls into a spray-painted station. Nearby, a police siren cuts through the near-constant traffic drone. Commuters hurry past falling apart, ivy-covered fencing panels as rain clouds form.

This is perhaps the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established vineyard. However James Bayliss-Smith has managed to 40 mature vines heavy with round purplish berries on a rambling garden plot situated between a row of 1930s houses and a local rail line just above the city downtown.

"I've noticed people hiding heroin or other items in the shrubbery," states Bayliss-Smith. "Yet you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your vines."

The cameraman, 46, a filmmaker who runs a fermented beverage company, is among several urban winemaker. He has organized a informal group of cultivators who make vintage from four hidden urban vineyards tucked away in private yards and allotments throughout the city. The project is too clandestine to possess an formal title yet, but the group's messaging chat is named Vineyard Dreams.

City Vineyards Around the World

To date, the grower's plot is the sole location listed in the City Vineyard Network's forthcoming world atlas, which includes more famous urban wineries such as the eighteen hundred plants on the slopes of Paris's historic Montmartre area and over 3,000 grapevines with views of and within the Italian city. The Italian-based non-profit association is at the vanguard of a movement reviving city vineyards in traditional winemaking countries, but has discovered them all over the globe, including cities in Japan, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.

"Vineyards assist cities stay greener and ecologically varied. These spaces preserve land from development by establishing permanent, productive farming plots within cities," explains the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those created in urban areas are a product of the earth the plants thrive in, the vagaries of the climate and the individuals who tend the grapes. "Each vintage represents the charm, community, landscape and heritage of a urban center," notes the spokesperson.

Unknown Eastern European Grapes

Returning to the city, the grower is in a urgent timeline to gather the vines he grew from a plant abandoned in his garden by a Polish family. If the precipitation arrives, then the pigeons may take advantage to attack once more. "Here we have the enigmatic Polish variety," he comments, as he cleans damaged and rotten berries from the glistering clusters. "The variety remains uncertain what variety they are, but they're definitely hardy. Unlike premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and additional renowned European varieties – you need not spray them with pesticides ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was developed by the Soviets."

Group Activities Across Bristol

Additional participants of the group are additionally making the most of bright periods between bursts of fall precipitation. On the terrace with views of Bristol's glistening waterfront, where historic trading ships once bobbed with barrels of wine from Europe and Spain, one cultivator is harvesting her rondo grapes from about 50 plants. "I adore the aroma of these vines. The scent is so evocative," she says, stopping with a basket of grapes resting on her shoulder. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you roll down the vehicle windows on holiday."

Grant, 52, who has devoted more than two decades working for charitable groups in conflict zones, inadvertently inherited the grape garden when she returned to the United Kingdom from Kenya with her household in recent years. She felt an strong responsibility to maintain the grapevines in the garden of their recently acquired property. "This plot has already endured three different owners," she says. "I really like the idea of environmental care – of passing this on to someone else so they can continue producing from the soil."

Terraced Vineyards and Traditional Winemaking

A short walk away, the final two members of the collective are busily laboring on the precipitous slopes of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has established more than 150 plants situated on terraces in her wild half-acre garden, which tumbles down towards the muddy local waterway. "People are always surprised," she notes, gesturing towards the interwoven vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing grapevine lines in a city street."

Currently, the filmmaker, 60, is harvesting clusters of dusty purple Rondo grapes from lines of vines arranged along the cliff-side with the help of her daughter, Luca. Scofield, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was motivated to cultivate vines after observing her neighbour's grapevines. She's discovered that amateurs can make interesting, enjoyable natural wine, which can sell for upwards of seven pounds a serving in the growing number of wine bars specialising in low-processing vintages. "It is incredibly satisfying that you can actually make good, natural wine," she states. "It is quite on trend, but in reality it's resurrecting an traditional method of making wine."

"During foot-stomping the fruit, all the natural microorganisms come off the skins and enter the juice," explains the winemaker, ankle deep in a bucket of small branches, seeds and red liquid. "This represents how vintages were historically produced, but industrial wineries add sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and then add a lab-grown yeast."

Challenging Conditions and Inventive Approaches

A few doors down sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who motivated his neighbor to establish her vines, has assembled his companions to pick 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 Bristol University cultivated an interest in wine on annual sporting trips to Europe. However it is a challenge to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the gorge, with cooling tides sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I wanted to produce Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers," says Reeve with amusement. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and very sensitive to fungal infections."

"I wanted to make European-style vintages in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"

The temperamental Bristol climate is not the sole problem faced by winegrowers. The gardener has been compelled to erect a fence on