Volunteer @ Barnton Bunker

There’s a Cold War-era bunker tucked away just outside Edinburgh that’s slowly being brought back to life—not by a government task force or a history society, but by a bunch of everyday people from around the world, all chipping in bit by bit. And for the last while, I’ve been lucky enough to be one of them.

Volunteering at Barnton Bunker has been one of the most unusual, rewarding, and downright memorable experiences of my life.

Mornings with Chickens, Goats & Emus (Yes, Emus)

The day kicks off early with animal duties. First stop: the coop. I collect around a dozen fresh eggs each morning from our lovely (if slightly chaotic) chickens. After that, it’s feeding time for the goats and the emus. If you’ve never stared down an emu before breakfast, I highly recommend it—there’s nothing quite like it.

The animals are a core part of life here. They give structure to the day, a bit of peace, and plenty of laughs. The goats are cheeky, the chickens noisy, and the emus... majestic chaos.

Digging, Painting & Driving Heavy Machinery

After breakfast, it’s down to work. I’ve been pitching in on all sorts—from digging holes to replace old concrete posts, to painting the entrance tunnel into the bunker. It’s slow, steady work, but every job we do feels like a step closer to restoring this historical site.

One of my favourite moments? Getting a go on the digger dumper truck. There’s something deeply satisfying about shifting tonnes of soil around on a big, noisy machine. It might not be glamorous, but it’s good, honest work.

I’ve also been dabbling in a bit of gardening and woodwork, trying to add a few practical skills to the toolbox while I’m here. Never thought I’d be learning how to build steps or weed raised beds in a Cold War bunker, but here we are.

Cabin Life & Community Spirit

We live on-site in a shared volunteer cabin—a real mix of people aged anywhere from 18 to 55. Some stay for weeks, others longer. We come from all over—Germany, Spain, Australia, the States—and we all muck in together.

There’s a weekly rota for chores: compost, recycling, cleaning the bathroom, keeping the place shipshape. It might sound dull, but it keeps things running smoothly and reminds you what it means to live communally. When ten people from different backgrounds can all agree on how to divide the compost, you know something’s working.

Tunes in the Tunnel: Open Mic Nights

One of the real highlights? Open mic night. Once a Month we set up in one of the cleared-out spaces and take turns sharing songs, poems, jokes—whatever people feel like offering. I’ve been helping run the event, and it’s a brilliant way to unwind, laugh, and connect with everyone here.

There’s something surreal and beautiful about hearing acoustic guitar bouncing off cold concrete walls deep inside a bunker. It’s the sound of life returning to a place that was once silent.

Why I’m Here

So, why am I doing all this? Because places like Barnton Bunker deserve to be remembered—and not just as cold relics of the past, but as living spaces shaped by community, energy, and hope.

Volunteering here has reminded me that life doesn’t always have to be a rush. It’s okay to slow down, to get your hands dirty, and to build something with a group of strangers who quickly become friends.

If you're ever in Edinburgh and want to see something truly different—or if you fancy rolling up your sleeves and joining us—Barnton Bunker is always looking for volunteers.