Elara is an experienced HR strategist with a passion for connecting companies with exceptional talent worldwide.
Every quarter of an hour or so, an older diesel railway carriage arrives at a graffiti-covered station. Close by, a police siren pierces the near-constant road noise. Daily travelers rush by collapsing, ivy-covered garden fences as storm clouds gather.
This is perhaps the least likely spot you anticipate to find a perfectly formed vineyard. However one local grower has managed to four dozen established plants heavy with round purplish grapes on a sprawling garden plot situated between a line of 1930s houses and a commuter railway just above the city town centre.
"I've seen people hiding illegal substances or whatever in the shrubbery," says Bayliss-Smith. "Yet you just get on with it ... and keep tending to your grapevines."
Bayliss-Smith, forty-six, a documentary cameraman who also has a kombucha drinks business, is not the only urban winemaker. He's organized a informal group of growers who make wine from several hidden urban vineyards tucked away in back gardens and community plots across the city. The project is sufficiently underground to possess an formal title yet, but the group's messaging chat is called Grape Expectations.
To date, the grower's allotment is the only one registered in the City Vineyard Network's forthcoming global directory, which features better-known urban wineries such as the 1,800 plants on the slopes of the French capital's historic artistic district neighbourhood and over three thousand grapevines overlooking and within Turin. Based in Italy charitable organization is at the forefront of a initiative reviving city vineyards in traditional winemaking nations, but has identified them all over the globe, including urban centers in East Asia, South Asia and Central Asia.
"Grape gardens help urban areas remain more eco-friendly and ecologically varied. These spaces protect land from development by creating long-term, yielding farming plots within urban environments," says the association's president.
Like all wines, those produced in cities are a result of the soils the plants grow in, the vagaries of the weather and the individuals who care for the fruit. "Each vintage embodies the beauty, community, landscape and history of a urban center," adds the spokesperson.
Back in Bristol, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to gather the grapevines he cultivated from a plant left in his garden by a Polish family. Should the rain arrives, then the pigeons may seize their chance to feast once more. "Here we have the enigmatic Eastern European grape," he comments, as he removes bruised and mouldy grapes from the shimmering bunches. "We don't really know what variety they are, but they're definitely hardy. In contrast to premium grapes – Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and additional renowned European varieties – you need not treat them with chemicals ... this could be a unique cultivar that was developed by the Soviets."
The other members of the group are additionally taking advantage of sunny interludes between bursts of fall precipitation. On the terrace overlooking Bristol's glistening harbour, where historic trading ships once floated with casks of wine from France and Spain, Katy Grant is harvesting her rondo grapes from approximately fifty vines. "I love the smell of the grapevines. The scent is so reminiscent," she remarks, stopping with a container of grapes resting on her shoulder. "It recalls the fragrance of Provence when you roll down the vehicle windows on holiday."
Grant, fifty-two, who has devoted more than 20 years working for charitable groups in war-torn regions, unexpectedly inherited the vineyard when she moved back to the UK from East Africa with her family in recent years. She experienced an overwhelming duty to look after the grapevines in the yard of their recently acquired property. "This vineyard has previously endured multiple proprietors," she says. "I deeply appreciate the idea of environmental care – of passing this on to someone else so they can continue producing from the soil."
Nearby, the remaining cultivators of the collective are hard at work on the steep inclines of Avon Gorge. Jo Scofield has established more than one hundred fifty vines perched on terraces in her expansive property, which descends towards the silty River Avon. "Visitors frequently express amazement," she says, gesturing towards the interwoven grape garden. "It's astonishing to them they can see grapevine lines in a urban neighborhood."
Today, the filmmaker, sixty, is harvesting clusters of deep violet dark berries from rows of plants slung across the cliff-side with the assistance of her child, Luca. Scofield, a wildlife and conservation film-maker who has contributed to streaming service's Great National Parks series and BBC Two's Gardeners' World, was inspired to plant grapes after observing her neighbor's grapevines. She's discovered that amateurs can produce interesting, enjoyable natural wine, which can sell for upwards of £7 a serving in the growing number of wine bars specialising in low-processing wines. "It's just deeply rewarding that you can actually make good, traditional vintage," she says. "It's very fashionable, but in reality it's reviving an traditional method of producing vintage."
"When I tread the grapes, the various natural microorganisms are released from the surfaces and enter the liquid," says the winemaker, ankle deep in a container of small branches, seeds and crimson juice. "That's how vintages were made traditionally, but industrial wineries add preservatives to eliminate the natural cultures and subsequently incorporate a lab-grown culture."
A few doors down active senior Bob Reeve, who inspired his neighbor to establish her vines, has gathered his companions to harvest white wine varieties from the 100 vines he has arranged precisely across two terraces. Reeve, a northern English PE teacher who taught at the local university developed a passion for viticulture on regular visits to Europe. But it is a challenge to cultivate this particular variety in the dampness of the gorge, with temperature fluctuations sweeping in and out from the nearby estuary. "I aimed to produce Burgundian wines here, which is a bit bonkers," says the retiree with a smile. "This variety is late to ripen and particularly vulnerable to fungal infections."
"My goal was creating Burgundian wines in this environment, which is rather ambitious"
The temperamental Bristol climate is not the sole problem faced by winegrowers. Reeve has had to erect a fence on
Elara is an experienced HR strategist with a passion for connecting companies with exceptional talent worldwide.