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Every 20 minutes or so, an ageing diesel railway carriage pulls into a spray-painted station. Close by, a police siren pierces the almost continuous traffic drone. Commuters rush by falling apart, ivy-draped fencing panels as storm clouds gather.

This is perhaps the last place you anticipate to find a well-established grape-growing plot. But one local grower has managed to four dozen established plants sagging with round mauve grapes on a sprawling allotment sandwiched between a row of historic homes and a local rail line just above the city downtown.

"I've noticed individuals concealing heroin or whatever in those bushes," states the grower. "But you simply continue ... and keep tending to your vines."

Bayliss-Smith, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who also has a fermented beverage company, is not the only urban winemaker. He's pulled together a loose collective of cultivators who produce wine from several hidden urban vineyards nestled in private yards and community plots throughout Bristol. It is too clandestine to possess an official name so far, but the group's messaging chat is named Vineyard Dreams.

City Wine Gardens Across the Globe

To date, Bayliss-Smith's allotment is the only one registered in the Urban Vineyards Association's forthcoming world atlas, which includes better-known city vineyards such as the 1,800 vines on the hillsides of the French capital's historic Montmartre neighbourhood and more than 3,000 vines overlooking and inside the Italian city. The Italian-based charitable organization is at the forefront of a movement reviving urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking countries, but has discovered them throughout the world, including cities in Japan, Bangladesh and Central Asia.

"Vineyards help cities stay greener and more diverse. These spaces preserve open space from construction by establishing long-term, yielding farming plots inside urban environments," says the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those created in urban areas are a product of the earth the plants grow in, the unpredictability of the weather and the people who tend the fruit. "A bottle of wine embodies the beauty, local spirit, environment and heritage of a urban center," adds the president.

Mystery Polish Grapes

Returning to the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to harvest the vines he grew from a cutting abandoned in his allotment by a Polish family. If the precipitation arrives, then the birds may take advantage to feast once more. "Here we have the mystery Polish grape," he comments, as he removes bruised and rotten grapes from the shimmering clusters. "The variety remains uncertain what variety they are, but they're definitely disease-resistant. Unlike noble varieties – Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and additional renowned French grapes – you need not spray them with pesticides ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was developed by the Soviets."

Group Efforts Across Bristol

Additional participants of the group are additionally taking advantage of bright periods between bursts of autumn rain. On the terrace overlooking the city's glistening waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once bobbed with barrels of vintage from France and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is collecting her dark berries from about 50 vines. "I love the smell of these vines. It is so evocative," she says, stopping with a basket of grapes resting on her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you roll down the vehicle windows on vacation."

Grant, fifty-two, who has spent over two decades working for charitable groups in war-torn regions, unexpectedly took over the grape garden when she moved back to the UK from Kenya with her family in recent years. She felt an overwhelming duty to look after the vines in the garden of their recently acquired property. "This plot has previously endured three different owners," she says. "I really like the concept of environmental care – of passing this on to future caretakers so they can continue producing from the soil."

Terraced Gardens and Traditional Production

Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the group are busily laboring on the precipitous slopes of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has established more than 150 vines perched on ledges in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the muddy local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, gesturing towards the tangled grape garden. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing grapevine lines in a urban neighborhood."

Today, Scofield, sixty, is harvesting clusters of dusty purple Rondo grapes from rows of vines arranged along the hillside with the help of her child, Luca. The conservationist, a documentary producer who has contributed to Netflix's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was inspired to plant grapes after observing her neighbor's grapevines. She has learned that amateurs can make intriguing, enjoyable natural wine, which can sell for more than seven pounds a glass in the growing number of establishments focusing on low-processing vintages. "It's just deeply rewarding that you can truly create good, traditional vintage," she states. "It's very fashionable, but in reality it's resurrecting an old way of producing vintage."

"When I tread the fruit, all the natural microorganisms are released from the surfaces into the juice," explains Scofield, ankle deep in a bucket of tiny stems, pips and crimson juice. "That's how wines were historically produced, but commercial producers add preservatives to eliminate the wild yeast and subsequently add a commercially produced yeast."

Challenging Conditions and Inventive Solutions

A few doors down active senior another cultivator, who inspired his neighbor to plant her vines, has assembled his friends to harvest Chardonnay grapes from the 100 vines he has laid out neatly across multiple levels. Reeve, a northern English PE teacher who taught at the local university developed a passion for viticulture on regular visits to France. But it is a difficult task to grow this particular variety in the humidity of the valley, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "I wanted to produce French-style vintages here, which is somewhat ambitious," admits Reeve with a smile. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and very sensitive to fungal infections."

"I wanted to make European-style vintages in this environment, which is a bit bonkers"

The unpredictable local weather is not the only problem encountered by grape cultivators. The gardener has had to erect a barrier on