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Each 20 minutes or so, an ageing diesel railway carriage arrives at a spray-painted station. Close by, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the almost continuous road noise. Daily travelers rush by collapsing, ivy-draped fencing panels as storm clouds gather.

This is perhaps the last place you expect to find a perfectly formed vineyard. However James Bayliss-Smith has managed to 40 mature vines sagging with round mauve grapes on a sprawling garden plot sandwiched between a line of historic homes and a commuter railway just north of the city town centre.

"I've noticed people concealing illegal substances or other items in the shrubbery," says Bayliss-Smith. "But you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your grapevines."

Bayliss-Smith, 46, a documentary cameraman who runs a kombucha drinks business, is among several urban winemaker. He has organized a informal group of cultivators who make wine from several hidden city grape gardens nestled in back gardens and allotments across the city. It is too clandestine to possess an formal title so far, but the collective's messaging chat is called Grape Expectations.

City Wine Gardens Across the Globe

To date, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the only one registered in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming global directory, which features more famous urban wineries such as the 1,800 vines on the slopes of the French capital's renowned Montmartre neighbourhood and more than 3,000 grapevines overlooking and inside Turin. Based in Italy non-profit association is at the vanguard of a movement reviving urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking nations, but has identified them throughout the globe, including urban centers in Japan, South Asia and Central Asia.

"Grape gardens assist cities remain greener and more diverse. These spaces preserve open space from construction by establishing permanent, yielding farming plots within urban environments," says the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those created in urban areas are a result of the soils the vines grow in, the vagaries of the climate and the individuals who care for the fruit. "A bottle of wine embodies the charm, community, landscape and history of a city," notes the spokesperson.

Unknown Polish Variety

Back in the city, the grower is in a race against time to gather the grapevines he cultivated from a cutting left in his allotment by a Eastern European household. If the rain comes, then the pigeons may seize their chance to attack again. "This is the enigmatic Eastern European variety," he says, as he cleans damaged and mouldy grapes from the glistering bunches. "We don't really know their exact classification, but they're definitely hardy. Unlike noble varieties – Pinot Noir, white wine grapes and additional renowned European varieties – you need not spray them with pesticides ... this is possibly a special variety that was bred by the Eastern Bloc."

Group Efforts Across Bristol

The other members of the group are additionally taking advantage of bright periods between showers of autumn rain. On the terrace with views of Bristol's shimmering waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with casks of vintage from Europe and Spain, one cultivator is collecting her dark berries from about fifty plants. "I adore the aroma of these vines. It is so reminiscent," she says, stopping with a container of grapes slung over her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you roll down the car windows on vacation."

Grant, fifty-two, who has devoted more than two decades working for humanitarian organizations in war-torn regions, inadvertently took over the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from Kenya with her household in recent years. She experienced an overwhelming duty to maintain the vines in the yard of their new home. "This plot has already endured multiple proprietors," she explains. "I really like the concept of natural stewardship – of passing this on to someone else so they can continue producing from this land."

Terraced Vineyards and Traditional Winemaking

Nearby, the final two members of the collective are hard at work on the steep inclines of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has established over one hundred fifty plants perched on ledges in her expansive property, which descends towards the silty local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the interwoven grape garden. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing grapevine lines in a urban neighborhood."

Today, Scofield, sixty, is harvesting bunches of dusty purple dark berries from rows of vines slung across the hillside with the assistance of her daughter, her family member. The conservationist, a documentary producer who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and television network's gardening shows, was motivated to plant grapes after seeing her neighbour's vines. She has learned that hobbyists can make intriguing, pleasurable natural wine, which can sell for more than £7 a serving in the increasing quantity of wine bars focusing on low-processing vintages. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly make quality, traditional vintage," she says. "It is quite fashionable, but really it's reviving an traditional method of making vintage."

"During foot-stomping the grapes, all the natural microorganisms are released from the skins into the liquid," explains the winemaker, ankle deep in a container of tiny stems, pips and red liquid. "That's how wines were made traditionally, but industrial wineries introduce preservatives to eliminate the wild yeast and then add a commercially produced culture."

Challenging Environments and Creative Solutions

A few doors down active senior another cultivator, who inspired Scofield to plant her vines, has assembled his friends to harvest white wine varieties from one hundred vines he has laid out neatly across multiple levels. 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 Bristol Channel. "I wanted to produce Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers," says Reeve with a smile. "This variety is late to ripen and very sensitive to mildew."

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

The temperamental local weather is not the sole problem faced by grape cultivators. Reeve has been compelled to erect a barrier on