Bristol's Garden Vineyards: Grape-Treading Grapes in Urban Gardens
Every quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel-powered train pulls into a graffiti-covered stop. Close by, a law enforcement alarm pierces the near-constant road noise. Daily travelers hurry past falling apart, ivy-covered garden fences as storm clouds form.
This is perhaps the least likely spot you expect to find a well-established grape-growing plot. However one local grower has managed to four dozen established plants heavy with plump purplish grapes on a rambling allotment situated between a row of 1930s houses and a local rail line just above the city downtown.
"I've seen people concealing illegal substances or whatever in the shrubbery," states the grower. "But you just get on with it ... and keep tending to your vines."
The cameraman, 46, a documentary cameraman who runs a fermented beverage company, is among several local vintner. He has organized a loose collective of growers who produce wine from four hidden urban vineyards tucked away in private yards and allotments across the city. The project is too clandestine to possess an official name so far, but the collective's WhatsApp group is called Grape Expectations.
Urban Vineyards Across the Globe
To date, the grower's allotment is the sole location registered in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming world atlas, which includes better-known city vineyards such as the 1,800 vines on the hillsides of the French capital's historic artistic district neighbourhood and over 3,000 vines overlooking and inside the Italian city. The Italian-based charitable organization is at the forefront of a movement re-establishing city vineyards in traditional winemaking countries, but has discovered them throughout the world, including cities in Japan, South Asia and Uzbekistan.
"Vineyards assist cities remain greener and ecologically varied. They protect open space from development by establishing permanent, productive farming plots inside urban environments," says the association's president.
Like all wines, those created in urban areas are a product of the soils the plants grow in, the unpredictability of the climate and the people who tend the grapes. "Each vintage embodies the charm, local spirit, landscape and heritage of a city," adds the president.
Unknown Polish Grapes
Returning to Bristol, the grower is in a race against time to gather the vines he cultivated from a cutting left in his garden by a Polish family. If the rain arrives, then the pigeons may take advantage to feast again. "Here we have the enigmatic Eastern European variety," he comments, as he cleans bruised and mouldy berries from the glistering clusters. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they are certainly disease-resistant. In contrast to premium grapes – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and other famous European varieties – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this could be a special variety that was developed by the Soviets."
Group Activities Across the City
Additional participants of the collective are additionally making the most of bright periods between bursts of autumn rain. At a rooftop garden with views of Bristol's shimmering harbour, where historic trading ships once bobbed with casks of wine from France and Spain, Katy Grant is collecting her dark berries from about fifty vines. "I love the smell of the grapevines. The scent is so evocative," she says, pausing with a container of grapes slung over her shoulder. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you open the vehicle windows on vacation."
The humanitarian worker, fifty-two, who has spent over 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in war-torn regions, inadvertently took over the grape garden when she returned to the UK from East Africa with her family in 2018. She felt an overwhelming duty to look after the vines in the garden of their new home. "This plot has previously endured multiple proprietors," she says. "I deeply appreciate the idea of environmental care – of passing this on to future caretakers so they continue producing from this land."
Sloping Gardens and Traditional Production
Nearby, the final two members of the group are busily laboring on the precipitous slopes of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has established more than 150 vines situated on terraces in her expansive property, which tumbles down towards the silty River Avon. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she says, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "They can't believe they can see rows of vines in a city street."
Currently, Scofield, 60, is harvesting clusters of dusty purple Rondo grapes from lines of plants arranged along the hillside with the assistance of her child, Luca. The conservationist, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's gardening shows, was inspired to cultivate vines after observing her neighbour's grapevines. She's discovered that amateurs can produce interesting, enjoyable natural wine, which can command prices of more than £7 a glass in the growing number of wine bars focusing on low-processing wines. "It is incredibly satisfying that you can actually make good, traditional vintage," she says. "It is quite on trend, but in reality it's resurrecting an traditional method of making wine."
"When I tread the grapes, the various wild yeasts are released from the surfaces and enter the juice," explains the winemaker, partially submerged in a container of tiny stems, seeds and crimson juice. "This represents how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries add sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and then add a lab-grown yeast."
Difficult Conditions and Creative Approaches
In the immediate vicinity active senior Bob Reeve, who inspired Scofield to plant her grapevines, has gathered his friends to pick white wine varieties from the 100 plants 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 regular visits to Europe. However it is a challenge to cultivate Chardonnay grapes in the humidity of the valley, with temperature fluctuations moving through from the nearby estuary. "I wanted to make French-style vintages in this location, which is somewhat ambitious," admits the retiree with a smile. "This variety is late to ripen and very sensitive to fungal infections."
"I wanted to make Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers"
The unpredictable Bristol climate is not the sole problem faced by grape cultivators. The gardener has had to install a fence on