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Every quarter of an hour or so, an older 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 rain clouds gather.

This is perhaps the last place you anticipate to find a perfectly formed vineyard. But James Bayliss-Smith has managed to four dozen established plants heavy with plump mauve grapes on a rambling allotment sandwiched between a line of 1930s houses and a commuter railway just above the city town centre.

"I've seen people hiding illegal substances or other items in the shrubbery," says the grower. "But you simply continue ... and continue caring for your vines."

The cameraman, 46, a filmmaker who also has a fermented beverage company, is among several urban winemaker. He has pulled together a informal group of cultivators who produce wine from several hidden urban vineyards tucked away in private yards and community plots across Bristol. It is too clandestine to have an formal title so far, but the group's WhatsApp group is named Grape Expectations.

City Wine Gardens Across the World

So far, Bayliss-Smith's plot is the only one registered in the Urban Vineyards Association's forthcoming global directory, which features better-known city vineyards such as the 1,800 vines on the hillsides of the French capital's renowned Montmartre area and over three thousand vines with views of and within Turin. The Italian-based charitable organization is at the vanguard of a movement re-establishing urban grape cultivation in traditional winemaking countries, but has identified them throughout the globe, including cities in Japan, South Asia and Central Asia.

"Grape gardens assist cities remain more eco-friendly and more diverse. They preserve land from development by creating long-term, yielding agricultural units within urban environments," explains the association's president.

Like all wines, those created in urban areas are a result of the earth the vines grow in, the vagaries of the climate and the individuals who tend the fruit. "A bottle of wine represents the beauty, community, environment and history of a urban center," adds the spokesperson.

Unknown Polish Variety

Returning to the city, Bayliss-Smith is in a urgent timeline to gather the grapevines he cultivated from a cutting left in his allotment by a Polish family. Should the rain comes, then the pigeons may take advantage to feast once more. "This is the enigmatic Polish grape," he comments, as he cleans bruised and rotten berries from the glistering bunches. "The variety remains uncertain their exact classification, but they're definitely disease-resistant. In contrast to premium grapes – Burgundy grapes, white wine grapes and additional renowned European varieties – you don't have to treat them with pesticides ... this is possibly a unique cultivar that was bred by the Eastern Bloc."

Collective Efforts Throughout Bristol

Additional participants of the collective are also taking advantage of sunny interludes between bursts of autumn rain. At a rooftop garden overlooking Bristol's glistening waterfront, where medieval merchant vessels once floated with barrels of wine from Europe and Spain, one cultivator is harvesting her dark berries from approximately fifty vines. "I adore the aroma of these vines. It is so reminiscent," she says, stopping with a basket of fruit slung over her shoulder. "It's the scent of southern France when you roll down the car windows on holiday."

Grant, 52, who has devoted more than two decades working for humanitarian organizations in conflict zones, inadvertently took over the vineyard when she returned to the UK from Kenya with her household in recent years. She felt an overwhelming duty to maintain the grapevines in the yard of their new home. "This vineyard has already endured multiple proprietors," she says. "I really like the idea of environmental care – of handing this down to future caretakers so they keep cultivating from the soil."

Terraced Vineyards and Natural Winemaking

A short walk away, the remaining cultivators of the group are hard at work on the steep inclines of the local river valley. Jo Scofield has cultivated more than 150 plants perched on terraces in her expansive property, which tumbles down towards the silty local waterway. "People are always surprised," she says, indicating the tangled grape garden. "They can't believe they are viewing grapevine lines in a city street."

Today, Scofield, sixty, is harvesting bunches of deep violet Rondo grapes from rows of vines arranged along the cliff-side with the assistance of her daughter, her family member. Scofield, 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 neighbour's grapevines. She's discovered that amateurs can make interesting, enjoyable traditional vintage, which can sell for more than seven pounds a serving in the growing number of wine bars specialising in low-processing wines. "It is deeply rewarding that you can actually make good, traditional vintage," she states. "It is quite on trend, but in reality it's reviving an traditional method of making vintage."

"When I tread the fruit, the various natural microorganisms come off the surfaces into the liquid," says the winemaker, ankle deep in a container of small branches, pips and red liquid. "That's how wines were historically produced, but commercial producers add preservatives to eliminate the natural cultures and then incorporate a commercially produced culture."

Challenging Environments and Creative Approaches

A few doors down active senior Bob Reeve, who motivated his neighbor to plant her vines, has gathered his friends to harvest Chardonnay grapes from the 100 plants he has arranged precisely across two terraces. The former teacher, a Lancashire-born PE teacher who taught at the local university developed a passion for viticulture on annual sporting trips to Europe. But it is a challenge to cultivate this particular variety in the dampness of the valley, with temperature fluctuations moving through from the nearby estuary. "I wanted to make French-style vintages in this location, which is a bit bonkers," says Reeve 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 a bit bonkers"

The temperamental Bristol climate is not the only challenge encountered by grape cultivators. The gardener has been compelled to erect a fence on