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Every 20 minutes or so, an older diesel-powered railway carriage arrives at a graffiti-covered stop. Nearby, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the near-constant traffic drone. Daily travelers rush by collapsing, ivy-draped fencing panels as storm clouds form.

This is maybe the least likely spot you anticipate to find a well-established vineyard. But one local grower has managed to 40 mature vines heavy with plump mauve berries on a rambling allotment situated between a row of historic homes and a commuter railway just north of the city town centre.

"I've noticed people concealing illegal substances or whatever in those bushes," says Bayliss-Smith. "But you just get on with it ... and continue caring for your vines."

The cameraman, 46, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, is not the only urban winemaker. He has organized a loose collective of growers who produce wine from several hidden urban vineyards nestled in back gardens and community plots across Bristol. It is too clandestine to have an official name so far, but the collective's WhatsApp group is named Vineyard Dreams.

City Vineyards Across the World

To date, the grower's plot is the sole location listed in the Urban Vineyards Association's forthcoming world atlas, which includes more famous urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the hillsides of Paris's historic Montmartre area and more than three thousand vines overlooking and within Turin. The Italian-based charitable organization is at the vanguard of a initiative reviving urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking countries, but has discovered them all over the world, including cities in East Asia, Bangladesh and Uzbekistan.

"Grape gardens assist cities remain more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. These spaces protect land from construction by creating permanent, productive agricultural units inside urban environments," says the organization's leader.

Like all wines, those created in urban areas are a result of the soils the vines grow in, the vagaries of the climate and the people who care for the fruit. "A bottle of wine represents the beauty, community, landscape and history of a city," adds the president.

Mystery Eastern European Variety

Back in the city, the grower is in a urgent timeline to harvest the vines he grew from a plant abandoned in his allotment by a Polish family. If the precipitation arrives, then the pigeons may seize their chance to feast once more. "Here we have the mystery Eastern European variety," he says, as he cleans damaged and mouldy berries from the glistering clusters. "The variety remains uncertain what variety they are, but they're definitely hardy. Unlike premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and additional renowned French grapes – you need not treat them with pesticides ... this is possibly a special variety that was bred by the Eastern Bloc."

Group Activities Across the City

Additional participants of the collective are also making the most of bright periods between bursts of autumn rain. On the terrace overlooking the city's glistening waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with barrels of vintage from Europe and Spain, one cultivator is collecting her rondo grapes from about fifty plants. "I love the aroma of these vines. It is so evocative," she says, pausing with a basket of grapes slung over her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you open the car windows on holiday."

The humanitarian worker, 52, who has spent over 20 years working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, inadvertently inherited the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her family in recent years. She felt an overwhelming duty to look after the vines in the yard of their recently acquired property. "This plot has previously survived multiple proprietors," she says. "I deeply appreciate the concept of natural stewardship – of handing this down to someone else so they continue producing from the soil."

Terraced Gardens and Traditional Winemaking

A short walk away, the final two members of the collective are busily laboring on the precipitous slopes of Avon Gorge. One filmmaker has cultivated more than 150 plants perched on ledges in her expansive property, which descends towards the silty local waterway. "People are always surprised," she notes, gesturing towards the tangled vineyard. "They can't believe they can see grapevine lines in a city street."

Currently, the filmmaker, 60, is picking clusters of dusty purple dark berries from rows of plants arranged along the cliff-side with the assistance of her daughter, her family member. Scofield, a documentary producer who has worked on streaming service's nature programming and television network's gardening shows, was inspired to plant grapes after seeing her neighbor's grapevines. She has learned that hobbyists can produce intriguing, pleasurable natural wine, which can command prices of upwards of seven pounds a serving in the growing number of establishments specialising in minimal-intervention vintages. "It's just incredibly satisfying that you can actually create good, traditional vintage," she states. "It's very fashionable, but really it's resurrecting an traditional method of producing wine."

"During foot-stomping the grapes, the various wild yeasts come off the surfaces into the juice," says Scofield, ankle deep in a bucket of tiny stems, pips and red liquid. "That's how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries add sulphur [dioxide] to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently add a lab-grown culture."

Difficult Environments and Inventive Solutions

A few doors down active senior Bob Reeve, who motivated Scofield to plant her grapevines, has assembled his companions to harvest Chardonnay grapes from the 100 plants he has laid out neatly across two terraces. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born physical education instructor who taught at the local university cultivated an interest in viticulture on regular visits to Europe. However it is a difficult task to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the gorge, with cooling tides moving through from the Bristol Channel. "I aimed to produce Burgundian wines in this location, which is somewhat ambitious," says the retiree with amusement. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to mildew."

"My goal was creating Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers"

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