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Each 20 minutes or so, an older diesel train arrives at a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a police siren cuts through the almost continuous road noise. Commuters hurry past falling apart, ivy-covered fencing panels as rain clouds gather.

This is maybe the last place you anticipate to find a perfectly formed grape-growing plot. However James Bayliss-Smith has managed to 40 mature vines heavy with plump purplish berries on a rambling garden plot sandwiched between a line of 1930s houses and a local rail line just north of the city town centre.

"I've noticed people hiding illegal substances or whatever in the shrubbery," states Bayliss-Smith. "But you just get on with it ... and keep tending to your vines."

Bayliss-Smith, 46, a filmmaker who runs a fermented beverage company, is not the only urban winemaker. He's pulled together a loose collective of cultivators who make vintage from four discreet city grape gardens nestled in private yards and allotments across the city. The project is too clandestine to possess an formal title yet, but the collective's WhatsApp group is called Vineyard Dreams.

City Wine Gardens Across the Globe

So far, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the sole location listed in the City Vineyard Network's forthcoming world atlas, which features more famous city vineyards such as the 1,800 vines on the slopes of Paris's historic Montmartre area and more than three thousand vines with views of and inside the Italian city. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the vanguard of a initiative reviving urban grape cultivation in historic wine-producing countries, but has discovered them throughout the globe, including cities in East Asia, South Asia and Central Asia.

"Vineyards assist urban areas remain greener and ecologically varied. These spaces protect land from construction by creating permanent, productive agricultural units within cities," explains the organization's leader.

Similar to other vintages, those produced in urban areas are a result of the soils the plants thrive in, the unpredictability of the weather and the individuals who care for the fruit. "A bottle of wine embodies the beauty, community, landscape and history of a urban center," adds the president.

Unknown Polish Grapes

Returning to Bristol, the grower is in a urgent timeline to gather the grapevines he grew from a plant abandoned in his allotment by a Polish family. Should the rain comes, then the birds may seize their chance to feast again. "Here we have the enigmatic Eastern European variety," he says, as he cleans bruised and mouldy berries from the shimmering clusters. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they are certainly hardy. In contrast to premium grapes – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and other famous French grapes – you don't have to treat them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."

Group Activities Throughout Bristol

Additional participants of the group are also taking advantage of sunny interludes between showers of autumn rain. At a rooftop garden with views of Bristol's glistening harbour, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with barrels of vintage from France and the Iberian peninsula, Katy Grant is collecting her dark berries from approximately 50 vines. "I adore the aroma of these vines. The scent is so reminiscent," she remarks, stopping with a container of fruit resting on her shoulder. "It's the scent of southern France when you roll down the car windows on holiday."

Grant, 52, who has devoted more than two decades working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, unexpectedly took over the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her family in recent years. She experienced an strong responsibility to look after the vines in the garden of their recently acquired property. "This plot has previously endured multiple proprietors," she says. "I deeply appreciate the concept of environmental care – of handing this down to future caretakers so they can continue producing from this land."

Sloping Vineyards and Traditional Winemaking

A short walk away, the final two members of the group are hard at work on the precipitous slopes of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has established over 150 plants situated on terraces in her expansive property, which tumbles down towards the muddy local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "They can't believe they can see grapevine lines in a urban neighborhood."

Today, the filmmaker, sixty, is harvesting clusters of deep violet dark berries from rows of plants arranged along the hillside with the help of her daughter, her family member. Scofield, a documentary producer who has worked on streaming service's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's gardening shows, was inspired to plant grapes after observing her neighbour's grapevines. She's discovered that amateurs can produce interesting, pleasurable natural wine, which can sell for more than seven pounds a serving in the growing number of establishments focusing on minimal-intervention vintages. "It's just deeply rewarding that you can actually make quality, traditional vintage," she states. "It is quite on trend, but in reality it's reviving an old way of making wine."

"During foot-stomping the grapes, the various wild yeasts are released from the surfaces into the juice," says Scofield, ankle deep in a bucket of tiny stems, seeds and crimson juice. "This represents how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries add sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the wild yeast and subsequently incorporate a lab-grown yeast."

Challenging Environments and Inventive Solutions

In the immediate vicinity sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who motivated Scofield to establish her vines, has assembled his friends to pick Chardonnay grapes from the 100 vines he has arranged precisely across two terraces. The former teacher, a northern English PE teacher who taught at Bristol University cultivated an interest in wine on regular visits to France. But it is a challenge to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the gorge, with cooling tides moving through from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to produce Burgundian wines in this location, which is a bit bonkers," says the retiree with amusement. "This variety is slow-maturing and particularly vulnerable to mildew."

"I wanted to make Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers"

The unpredictable Bristol climate is not the only problem faced by grape cultivators. The gardener has been compelled to install a fence on