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Each quarter of an hour or so, an ageing diesel-powered railway carriage pulls into a spray-painted station. Close by, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the near-constant traffic drone. Commuters rush by collapsing, ivy-draped garden fences as rain clouds form.

This is perhaps the least likely spot you expect to find a perfectly formed grape-growing plot. However one local grower has cultivated 40 mature vines sagging with plump mauve grapes on a rambling garden plot sandwiched between a line of historic homes and a commuter railway just above the city town centre.

"I've seen individuals concealing illegal substances or other items in those bushes," states Bayliss-Smith. "But you simply continue ... and continue caring for your vines."

The cameraman, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, is among several local vintner. He's organized a loose collective of cultivators who make vintage from several discreet urban vineyards tucked away in back gardens and community plots across Bristol. It is too clandestine to have an formal title so far, but the group's messaging chat is named Grape Expectations.

Urban Wine Gardens Around the World

So far, the grower's allotment is the only one listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming world atlas, which includes better-known city vineyards such as the 1,800 plants on the slopes of Paris's historic artistic district area and over three thousand grapevines overlooking and inside Turin. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the vanguard of a movement re-establishing city vineyards in historic wine-producing countries, but has discovered them all over the globe, including cities in East Asia, Bangladesh and Central Asia.

"Grape gardens assist cities stay more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. These spaces protect land from development by establishing permanent, yielding farming plots inside cities," says the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those produced in cities are a product of the earth the vines thrive in, the vagaries of the weather and the people who care for the fruit. "A bottle of wine represents the beauty, local spirit, environment and heritage of a city," notes the spokesperson.

Mystery Eastern European Variety

Back in the city, the grower is in a urgent timeline to gather the vines he cultivated from a plant abandoned in his garden by a Polish family. Should the rain comes, then the pigeons may take advantage to feast once more. "This is the mystery Eastern European variety," he says, as he removes damaged and mouldy berries from the shimmering clusters. "The variety remains uncertain what variety they are, but they are certainly disease-resistant. In contrast to noble varieties – Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and other famous French grapes – you need not treat them with chemicals ... this could be a special variety that was bred by the Soviets."

Group Activities Across the City

The other members of the group are also taking advantage of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. On the terrace overlooking the city's glistening waterfront, where historic trading ships once floated with casks of vintage from France and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is harvesting her rondo grapes from about fifty vines. "I love the aroma of the grapevines. The scent is so evocative," she says, pausing with a container of fruit slung over her arm. "It's the scent of Provence when you open the vehicle windows on holiday."

Grant, 52, who has devoted more than two decades working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, unexpectedly inherited the vineyard when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her family in recent years. She felt an strong responsibility to look after the grapevines in the yard of their new home. "This plot has already survived multiple proprietors," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the idea of environmental care – of handing this down to someone else so they continue producing from this land."

Sloping Vineyards and Natural Winemaking

A short walk away, the final two members of the group are busily laboring on the precipitous slopes of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has established more than one hundred fifty vines situated on ledges in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she notes, indicating the interwoven vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they can see grapevine lines in a city street."

Currently, the filmmaker, 60, is harvesting clusters of dusty purple dark berries from rows of plants slung across the hillside with the assistance of her daughter, her family member. The conservationist, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and television network's gardening shows, was inspired to plant grapes after observing her neighbour's vines. She's discovered that amateurs can produce interesting, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can sell for upwards of £7 a serving in the growing number of establishments specialising in minimal-intervention vintages. "It is incredibly satisfying that you can actually make good, traditional vintage," she states. "It's very on trend, but really it's resurrecting an old way of producing wine."

"When I tread the fruit, all the natural microorganisms come off the surfaces into the liquid," explains Scofield, ankle deep in a bucket of small branches, seeds and crimson juice. "This represents how vintages were historically produced, but industrial wineries introduce preservatives to kill the wild yeast and then add a commercially produced yeast."

Difficult Environments and Inventive Solutions

A few doors down active senior Bob Reeve, who inspired his neighbor to establish her vines, has assembled his friends to harvest white wine varieties from one hundred plants he has arranged precisely across multiple levels. The former teacher, a northern English physical education instructor who taught at the local university cultivated an interest in viticulture on regular visits to France. But it is a challenge to cultivate this particular variety in the humidity 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 Reeve with a smile. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to fungal infections."

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

The temperamental Bristol climate is not the only challenge faced by winegrowers. Reeve has been compelled to install a fence on