The Growing Potential of Belfast’s Alleyways
This year, I was thrilled to be involved in a project called 9ft in Common, named after the typical width of a Belfast alleyway. This initiative aimed to unlock the hidden potential of these urban spaces, and my role was to explore how they could be used to grow food.
Integrating vegetation into urban environments is an excellent idea for many reasons. While I might be a bit partial, my enthusiasm is backed by research—I completed an Engineering Master’s project years ago on the “greening” of buildings, examining the use of plants on and around structures to reap environmental benefits.
And the benefits are plentiful. For one, living green corridors that weave through cityscapes enhance biodiversity. Improved air quality is another advantage; the tiny hairs on leaves of trees, climbers, and shrubs filter fine particulates from the air. One of the most critical benefits, especially as climate change drives more extreme weather, is how vegetation helps manage drainage and flooding. Plants and permeable surfaces, like soil or green roofs, slow rainwater runoff, giving drainage systems a better chance to cope with heavy rainfall. Additionally, plants play a significant role in mitigating the urban heat island effect, moderating temperatures and making cities more comfortable year-round.
What surprised me most during my research, however, were findings I couldn’t include in my project because they were “out of scope.” Studies showed that vegetation has profound impacts on people’s well-being: greater happiness, increased productivity, faster recovery times in hospitals, and better mental health outcomes simply from having greenery in view. Even a single tree outside a hospital window can make a significant difference. The conclusion is clear—incorporating more plants into our cities isn’t just good for the environment; it’s essential for our well-being.
Martina and Jonny’s Eden Alley, in North Belfast
But this project wasn’t just about adding greenery to alleyways. It was about growing edible plants in these spaces. So, why does that excite me so much?
Food has a unique power to bring people together. It’s a fundamental human need, one that binds us metaphorically across the globe and literally around a shared table. Growing food together creates a special opportunity for connection, fostering community spirit in an authentic way.
Food is deeply personal—our preferences shaped by experiences and childhood memories. It’s also inherently cultural. From national cuisines to local recipes and traditions, food unites us on many levels.
And in Belfast’s alleyways, we have all the ingredients needed to cultivate this shared experience.
Let’s start by looking at the scale of potential here.
Belfast has roughly 202 kilometers of alleyways—more than the distance to Dublin. Together, these alleyways cover an estimated 544,000 square meters (54 hectares or 133 acres). If just 10% of that area were converted into edible growing spaces, the productivity of Belfast’s alleys could be transformative. For context, Belfast’s population is approximately 350,000.
Based on production data from my organic farm 10 miles south of the city, and taking a conservative 50% reduction to account for shading and urban growing challenges, here’s what Belfast's alleyways could yield annually:
350,000 garlic bulbs
1.4 million carrots
250,000 turnips
600,000 bunches of parsley
1 million beetroots
110,000 cabbages
Of course, focusing on just one of these crops wouldn’t be practical. Beyond the novelty or boldness of such an approach, becoming entirely self-sufficient in a single crop isn’t particularly desirable. I’ve learned that people should grow what matters to them personally. When you grow what you love to eat, it becomes the most delicious version you’ve ever tasted. This passion motivates you to care for it from seed to plate, and your enthusiasm for growing, harvesting, and enjoying your own food only deepens over time.
Having said that, aiming for a city self-sufficient in perennial herbs like bay leaves, rosemary, and chives could be entirely achievable. And it might just spare us the absurdity of seeing plastic packs of imported rosemary from Kenya in Belfast supermarkets!
In 2024, I had the privilege of working with three alleyways across Belfast, supporting their transformation journeys.
Herman’s Way, in East Belfast, before we started!
In North Belfast, I collaborated with Martina and Jonny at Eden Alley—a thriving, well-developed alley garden filled with edible plants and brimming with horticultural ambition. Their work is truly inspiring.
In South Belfast, I worked with various residents in several parallel alleyways stretching north to south behind the terraced houses near Ormeau Road. These are classic Belfast alleyways—paved, 9 feet wide, and running along the backs of houses. It’s encouraging to see them serve as pedestrian routes, play spaces, and, of course, areas for growing food. Creating large planters and getting them filled with a loam-based compost was the big priority here.
In East Belfast, I partnered with Sarah and Aisling, two neighbours whose yards open onto a wild, overgrown, and unadopted alley, now known as Herman’s Way. Their transformation of this space has been remarkable: with a lot of hard work, numerous new planters, and loads of compost and wood chip, they’ve turned it from an unused tangle of weeds into a beautiful, serene, and productive area for snacking on fresh veg and unwinding as the sun sets.
Herman’s Way, in East Belfast, taking shape….
These edible landscapes bring people together—whether it’s for evening drinks at sunset, spontaneous musical get-togethers, or casual chats over a cup of tea about tomato pruning. They bridge cultural divides. Through these three demonstration projects, I saw firsthand how gardening can create a sense of community. Neighbours don’t need to become best friends; even small connections, like sharing a bit of compost-shovelling or exchanging gardening tips, make a difference. In this way, people go from strangers to familiar faces you’d give a friendly nod to instead of unknowns to be wary of.
These projects also showed me that the success of alleyway gardening often relies on one or a few enthusiastic individuals to initiate and sustain the effort. But what you get back is far greater than what you put in.
Residents from across the alleyways in the Ormeau Road area, South Belfast, gather to discuss pinching out tomatoes.
Of course, there are challenges to growing in Belfast’s alleyways. Access to high-quality growing mediums, like compost, can be a hurdle. While composting could be done in every alley, people worry (in my opinion unnecessarily) about attracting rodents. Buying compost can also be costly in small bags and inconvenient in bulk. Yet large planters are crucial, as they retain moisture better than small pots, making it easier to build healthy, balanced soil. While they’re also more expensive if purchased, large planters are relatively easy to make with scrap wood and a few screws. They can be costly to fill, though, and compost and soil are heavy—so people often need encouragement that the initial effort is worthwhile.
A lack of confidence can also hold people back, often stemming from limited knowledge or experience. Seeing more successful examples around the city would help to boost interest and build skills.
Neighbour relations can sometimes be tricky as well. Making that first connection can feel intimidating, and some people may be opposed to alleyway growing, no matter the approach. But in my experience, a shared, delicious meal can go a long way in winning people over.
Once people find the confidence to start, they can accomplish amazing things.
In a city like Belfast, with its close-knit neighbourhoods and vibrant history, edible alleyways hold remarkable potential. These spaces aren’t just about growing food—they’re about reconnecting people with nature, sparking creativity, and building a more resilient, sustainable community. Imagine alleyways filled with lush greenery, where neighbours gather to share recipes, celebrate small harvests, and work together toward a common goal. Every cabbage, every bunch of parsley, every thriving plant is a reminder that with just a bit of effort, urban spaces can become places of beauty, health, and connection.
Edible alleyway gardening enriches the environment, improves air quality, and brings the calming effects of greenery to places where we need it most. It has the power to strengthen neighbourhoods, transform unused spaces into hubs of community life, and, in the process, make us all a little happier and healthier. As people plant, tend, and share the fruits of their labour, they’re not just growing food—they’re growing friendships, skills, and a sense of pride in their community.
With so many unused spaces, a few handfuls of seeds, and the energy of Belfast’s residents, the potential for edible alleyways is already here. These projects bring lasting benefits that go beyond the food we grow—strengthening our connection to one another and to the spaces we share.
Jonny from Eden Alley, North Belfast