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Each 20 minutes or so, an older diesel railway carriage arrives at a spray-painted stop. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm pierces the near-constant road noise. Daily travelers rush by falling apart, ivy-draped garden fences as storm clouds form.

It is maybe the last place you anticipate to find a well-established grape-growing plot. However James Bayliss-Smith has cultivated 40 mature vines sagging with plump purplish berries on a sprawling allotment situated between a row of 1930s houses and a local rail line just above the city downtown.

"I've noticed individuals hiding illegal substances or whatever in those bushes," says the grower. "Yet you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your grapevines."

The cameraman, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who also has a kombucha drinks business, is among several local vintner. He has organized a informal group of cultivators who make wine from several hidden urban vineyards nestled in private yards and community plots across the city. The project is too clandestine to possess an formal title yet, but the collective's messaging chat is called Vineyard Dreams.

Urban Vineyards Across the World

So far, the grower's plot is the sole location registered in the Urban Vineyards Association's upcoming world atlas, which features more famous urban wineries such as the eighteen hundred vines on the slopes of Paris's renowned artistic district area and over three thousand vines with views of and within the Italian city. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the forefront of a movement reviving urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking countries, but has discovered them throughout the globe, including cities in East Asia, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.

"Vineyards help cities stay greener and more diverse. These spaces preserve land from construction by creating permanent, productive agricultural units inside cities," says the organization's leader.

Like all wines, those created in urban areas are a result of the earth the vines grow in, the vagaries of the climate and the individuals who care for the grapes. "A bottle of wine embodies the charm, local spirit, landscape and history of a urban center," adds the spokesperson.

Unknown Eastern European Variety

Returning to Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to gather the grapevines he cultivated from a plant abandoned in his garden by a Polish family. Should the rain arrives, then the pigeons may seize their chance to feast again. "Here we have the mystery Eastern European grape," he comments, as he removes damaged and rotten berries from the glistering clusters. "The variety remains uncertain what variety they are, but they are certainly disease-resistant. Unlike premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, Chardonnay and other famous French grapes – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."

Collective Efforts Throughout the City

Additional participants of the group are additionally taking advantage of bright periods between bursts of autumn rain. On the terrace overlooking Bristol's shimmering waterfront, where historic trading ships once bobbed with casks of vintage from France and the Iberian peninsula, 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, pausing with a container of grapes resting on her shoulder. "It's the scent of southern France when you open the car windows on vacation."

The humanitarian worker, 52, who has devoted more than 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in war-torn regions, inadvertently inherited the vineyard when she returned to the UK from East Africa with her household in recent years. She felt an strong responsibility to look after the vines in the yard of their new home. "This vineyard has already survived multiple proprietors," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the idea of environmental care – of passing this on to someone else so they can continue producing from the soil."

Terraced Gardens and Traditional Winemaking

A short walk away, the final two members of the group are hard at work on the precipitous slopes of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has established more than 150 plants perched on ledges in her expansive property, which descends towards the muddy River Avon. "People are always surprised," she notes, indicating the interwoven vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they can see grapevine lines in a city street."

Currently, Scofield, 60, is picking bunches of deep violet Rondo grapes from lines of vines arranged along the cliff-side with the help of her daughter, her family member. The conservationist, a documentary producer who has worked on Netflix's nature programming and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was motivated to cultivate vines after observing her neighbour's vines. She's discovered that amateurs can make intriguing, pleasurable traditional vintage, which can command prices of more than seven pounds a serving in the growing number of wine bars focusing on low-processing vintages. "It's just incredibly satisfying that you can actually create good, traditional vintage," she states. "It's very fashionable, but in reality it's reviving an old way of producing wine."

"During foot-stomping the fruit, all the natural microorganisms come off the skins and enter the liquid," says Scofield, ankle deep in a container of small branches, seeds and red liquid. "This represents how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries introduce preservatives to kill the wild yeast and then incorporate a commercially produced yeast."

Difficult Conditions and Inventive Solutions

In the immediate vicinity sprightly retiree another cultivator, who inspired Scofield to plant her vines, has gathered his friends to harvest white wine varieties from the 100 plants he has arranged precisely across two terraces. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who taught at Bristol University developed a passion for wine on annual sporting trips to France. But it is a difficult task to cultivate Chardonnay grapes in the dampness of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the Bristol Channel. "I wanted to produce French-style vintages here, which is somewhat ambitious," admits the retiree with amusement. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to fungal infections."

"I wanted to make European-style vintages here, which is rather ambitious"

The unpredictable local weather is not the only problem encountered by grape cultivators. Reeve has had to install a fence on