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Every 20 minutes or so, an older diesel railway carriage arrives at a graffiti-covered station. Close by, a law enforcement alarm cuts through the near-constant traffic drone. Daily travelers rush by collapsing, ivy-covered garden fences as storm clouds form.

It is maybe the last place you anticipate to find a perfectly formed grape-growing plot. But James Bayliss-Smith has managed to four dozen established plants sagging with plump mauve grapes on a rambling allotment sandwiched between a row of 1930s houses and a local rail line just above Bristol downtown.

"I've seen people hiding illegal substances or other items in the shrubbery," says Bayliss-Smith. "Yet you simply continue ... and keep tending to your vines."

The cameraman, 46, a filmmaker who runs a fermented beverage company, is not the only urban winemaker. He has pulled together a loose collective of growers who make vintage from four hidden urban vineyards nestled in private yards and allotments throughout Bristol. The project is sufficiently underground to have an official name yet, but the group's WhatsApp group is called Grape Expectations.

City Vineyards Around the Globe

To date, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the only one listed in the City Vineyard Network's upcoming global directory, which features better-known urban wineries such as the eighteen hundred vines on the hillsides of the French capital's renowned Montmartre neighbourhood and over three thousand vines overlooking and within the Italian city. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the forefront of a movement re-establishing urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking countries, but has identified them throughout the globe, including cities in Japan, Bangladesh and Central Asia.

"Vineyards help urban areas remain more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. They preserve land from development by creating long-term, yielding farming plots within cities," says the association's president.

Similar to other vintages, those created in cities are a result of the earth the plants grow in, the vagaries of the climate and the individuals who tend the grapes. "A bottle of wine represents the beauty, community, landscape and history of a city," adds the president.

Unknown Polish Grapes

Back in the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to gather the vines he grew from a cutting abandoned in his allotment by a Polish family. Should the rain arrives, then the birds may take advantage to feast once more. "Here we have the mystery Eastern European grape," he comments, as he removes bruised and mouldy grapes from the glistering bunches. "The variety remains uncertain what variety they are, but they are certainly hardy. Unlike premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and additional renowned European varieties – you don't have to spray them with pesticides ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was developed by the Eastern Bloc."

Collective Efforts Throughout the City

The other members of the group are additionally making the most of bright periods between showers of fall precipitation. On the terrace with views of the city's glistening harbour, where historic trading ships once bobbed with barrels of wine from France and the Iberian peninsula, one cultivator is collecting her dark berries from about 50 plants. "I adore the smell of the grapevines. It is so reminiscent," she says, stopping with a basket of grapes slung over her arm. "It recalls the fragrance of southern France when you roll down 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 took over the vineyard when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her household in recent years. She experienced an overwhelming duty to maintain the grapevines in the yard of their recently acquired property. "This plot has already survived multiple proprietors," she explains. "I deeply appreciate the idea of environmental care – of passing this on to future caretakers so they keep cultivating from this land."

Sloping Gardens and Natural Winemaking

Nearby, the final two members of the collective are hard at work on the steep inclines of the local river valley. One filmmaker has cultivated over one hundred fifty vines situated on terraces in her wild half-acre garden, which descends towards the muddy River Avon. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the tangled vineyard. "It's astonishing to them they are viewing rows of vines in a urban neighborhood."

Currently, Scofield, sixty, is picking clusters of deep violet dark berries from lines of plants arranged along the cliff-side with the assistance of her daughter, Luca. The conservationist, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to streaming service's nature programming and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was motivated to cultivate vines after observing her neighbor's vines. She has learned that hobbyists can produce interesting, enjoyable natural wine, which can sell for upwards of £7 a glass in the growing number of wine bars focusing on minimal-intervention wines. "It is deeply rewarding that you can truly make quality, natural wine," she says. "It is quite fashionable, but in reality it's resurrecting an traditional method of making wine."

"When I tread the fruit, all the natural microorganisms come off the surfaces into the juice," says the winemaker, partially submerged in a bucket of small branches, seeds and red liquid. "This represents how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries add preservatives to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently incorporate a commercially produced yeast."

Difficult Environments and Inventive Approaches

A few doors down sprightly retiree Bob Reeve, who motivated Scofield to establish her grapevines, has gathered his companions to harvest white wine varieties from one hundred vines he has laid out neatly across two terraces. Reeve, a Lancashire-born physical education instructor who worked at the local university developed a passion for viticulture on regular visits to Europe. However it is a difficult task to cultivate Chardonnay grapes in the humidity of the valley, with cooling tides moving through from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to make French-style vintages in this location, which is a bit bonkers," says the retiree with a smile. "Chardonnay is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to mildew."

"I wanted to make Burgundian wines here, which is rather ambitious"

The unpredictable local weather is not the sole challenge faced by winegrowers. Reeve has had to install a fence on