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Each 20 minutes or so, an older diesel-powered railway carriage pulls into a graffiti-covered station. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the almost continuous traffic drone. Daily travelers hurry past falling apart, ivy-draped fencing panels as storm clouds gather.

It is perhaps the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established grape-growing plot. However one local grower has cultivated four dozen established plants heavy with plump mauve berries on a rambling garden plot sandwiched between a line of historic homes and a commuter railway just north of Bristol downtown.

"I've noticed people concealing illegal substances or whatever in those bushes," states the grower. "But you simply continue ... and keep tending to your vines."

Bayliss-Smith, 46, a filmmaker who also has a kombucha drinks business, is not the only local vintner. He's pulled together a informal group of growers who produce vintage from four discreet urban vineyards nestled in private yards and allotments across the city. The project is sufficiently underground to have an formal title so far, but the collective's messaging chat is called Grape Expectations.

Urban Wine Gardens Around the Globe

To date, the grower's allotment is the only one listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's forthcoming global directory, which features better-known urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the hillsides of Paris's renowned Montmartre area and more than 3,000 grapevines with views of and inside Turin. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the forefront of a movement reviving urban grape cultivation in historic wine-producing nations, but has identified them throughout the globe, including cities in East Asia, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.

"Grape gardens help cities stay more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. These spaces protect land from development by establishing permanent, yielding agricultural units within urban environments," says the organization's leader.

Similar to other vintages, those produced in urban areas are a result of the earth the vines grow in, the vagaries of the climate and the individuals who tend the fruit. "Each vintage represents the charm, community, environment and history of a urban center," notes the president.

Mystery Eastern European Variety

Back in the city, the grower is in a race against time to gather the grapevines he grew from a plant left in his allotment by a Polish family. If the precipitation arrives, then the birds may take advantage to attack again. "Here we have the mystery Eastern European grape," he comments, as he cleans damaged and rotten berries from the shimmering bunches. "The variety remains uncertain their exact classification, but they're definitely disease-resistant. Unlike premium grapes – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and other famous European varieties – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this could be a unique cultivar that was bred by the Soviets."

Collective Efforts Across the City

The other members of the collective are also making the most of sunny interludes between showers of autumn rain. At a rooftop garden overlooking the city's glistening waterfront, where historic trading ships once bobbed with casks of wine from Europe and Spain, Katy Grant is harvesting her rondo grapes from about fifty plants. "I adore the smell of these vines. It is so evocative," she says, pausing with a container of grapes resting on her shoulder. "It's the scent of southern France when you open the vehicle windows on vacation."

Grant, 52, who has spent over 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in war-torn regions, unexpectedly took over the vineyard when she returned to the UK from Kenya with her family in recent years. She experienced an overwhelming duty to look after the grapevines in the garden of their new home. "This plot has already survived three different owners," she explains. "I really like the concept of environmental care – of handing this down to someone else so they can continue producing from the soil."

Sloping Vineyards and Traditional Production

A short walk away, the remaining cultivators of the group are busily laboring on the steep inclines of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has cultivated over one hundred fifty plants perched on terraces in her expansive property, which tumbles down towards the silty local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "It's astonishing to them they can see grapevine lines in a city street."

Today, the filmmaker, 60, is harvesting clusters of dusty purple dark berries from lines of vines slung across the cliff-side with the assistance of her daughter, Luca. Scofield, a documentary producer who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and television network's gardening shows, was motivated to cultivate vines after seeing her neighbour's vines. She's discovered that hobbyists can produce interesting, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can sell for upwards of £7 a serving in the increasing quantity of establishments focusing on low-processing wines. "It's just incredibly satisfying that you can actually create quality, traditional vintage," she states. "It's very on trend, but in reality it's resurrecting an traditional method of making wine."

"During foot-stomping the fruit, the various wild yeasts are released from the surfaces into the liquid," says the winemaker, partially submerged in a container of small branches, seeds and crimson juice. "That's how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries introduce sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently add a commercially produced culture."

Challenging Conditions and Inventive Approaches

A few doors down active senior Bob Reeve, who motivated his neighbor to plant her grapevines, has assembled his friends to pick Chardonnay grapes from one hundred vines he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born physical education instructor who worked at the local university developed a passion for wine on regular visits to France. However it is a challenge to cultivate Chardonnay grapes in the dampness of the gorge, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I wanted to produce Burgundian wines in this location, which is a bit bonkers," admits the retiree with amusement. "This variety is slow-maturing and very sensitive to mildew."

"My goal was creating Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers"

The temperamental Bristol climate is not the sole problem encountered by winegrowers. Reeve has had to install a fence on