Alpacalypse now: The Peruvian camelids conquering the countryside

'It happened to be my daughter’s 17th birthday when I collected the first alpacas I rehomed,’ food writer and recipe creator Anna Stanford recalls. ‘She had friends over and it was hard to keep them calm (the friends, not the alpacas) when the four balls of fluff arrived.’ However, Stanford had underestimated how stubborn the new arrivals could be and they refused to get out of the horsebox. ‘We tried everything. Eventually, as I was straddling one, she suddenly took off with me on her back — my first rodeo experience!’

Traditionally kept as herd animals in South America and prized for their wool and hardiness, alpacas (Lama pacos) only came to the UK in any number about 30 years ago — perhaps with as much reluctance — but have grown in popularity to near 60,000. There are two types: huacaya and suri. The former is identifiable by its crimped, teddy-bear-like fleece and is more prevalent; the latter has long, silky dreadlocks. The blanket (the fibre that extends from the base of the neck to the tail and along the flanks) is highly prized for being soft, lightweight and warm; the finer and more consistent the fibre, the more valuable it is.

It transpired that the Stanfords were destined to find those particular alpacas. ‘They were introduced to us as Mia, Matty, Nora and Grunt. Mia is my daughter’s name, my nephew is called Matty and Nora was the name of my husband’s grandmother. I saw it as a sign,’ Stanford says. ‘Luckily, we don’t have a Grunt in the family, but that name suited him. He was such a character with big buck teeth and a fantastic quiff.’

For Olympian Dame Kelly Holmes, who acquired her six ‘boys’ when they were six months old — ‘I needed a field to be kept mowed and they are brilliant at that’ — she named them based on their fleece colour: Liquorice (black), Polo (white), Truffle (mid brown), Crème Caramel (two-tone brown and white), Toffee and Fudge (light brown).

Seventeen years later, and sadly without Fudge and Crème Caramel, it is evident how besotted Dame Kelly is with the animals, although the same can’t always be said for them: ‘Liquorice acts like Polo’s shadow and is very protective, so he tries to bite you or spit when you get close to Polo. He is a little sod! He still has all of his teeth, whereas the others have lost theirs, so he chases people and bites them, including the vets.’

Northamptonshire-dwelling Polly Westley wasn’t afforded the same opportunity when it came to naming. ‘I had originally planned to give our alpacas Spanish names as a nod to their Peruvian heritage, but when they arrived they already responded to the ones they had been given: Disco Inferno (thankfully shortened to Disco), Abbandando (after Genco Abbandando from The Godfather) and Liberace. Ironically, Abbandando is the gentlest, Liberace isn’t remotely flamboyant and Disco is a drama queen. He is the most handsome and he knows it — the moment he spots a camera, he turns and poses.’

Names were similarly established with Molly Raven’s current alpacas, as they were inherited from the Revd Richard Coles’s late husband, David, who lived within spitting distance in another nook of Northamptonshire. ‘David knocked on my door and asked if I knew where the alpaca lady lived (I had my three old ones at the time),’ remembers Raven. ‘He told me he had been given three, but that the church was selling the field next to their vicarage so asked if I could have them for a few weeks. He named them Anneka (after Anneka Rice), Belinda (a priest he knew) and Margo (I think after Margot Leadbetter). Sadly, David died months later, but he regularly came to see the alpacas and was great fun.’

Having previously owned sheep — ‘suicidal escape artists’ — Raven was drawn to alpacas after seeing them in Peru. ‘I found a lady who kept some and arranged to go when my husband was away. However, he got suspicious and asked to come, hoping to put a halt to more animals. Fortunately, he really liked them and so he bought me three for my birthday nine years ago.’ From having a herd of nine at its largest, she is back to three again. ‘We lost three old ones and sold three young as they were males and alpacas don’t really live in mixed herds, plus the unneutered males can be a bit feisty. Females also come into season when a male is present so it makes it hard work if they are being kept for fun.’

This isn’t the case for Tess Homewood and her husband, Mark, at Bonnington Farm in Kent, who have a serious venture going. After buying three alpacas in 2020, they now have 43. ‘We primarily breed huacaya, but also run British Alpaca Society-affiliated training courses, host farm experiences and take alpacas to weddings,’ Homewood reports. At her own wedding, ‘our cake featured a felted bride and groom created using fibre from our own alpacas and every table was named after one. With a loose theme of “creatives”, there are names such as Picasso, Björk, Marlon and Brontë among the herd’. Each cria (newborn) is given the same initial as its dam, making it easy to follow lines from one generation to the next.

‘Alpacas’ breeding behaviour is amusing,’ Homewood says. ‘When introduced to a male, a female leaves absolutely no doubt about whether she is receptive. If she isn’t, or is already pregnant, she will spit at him.’ Although tales of vets and neighbours being spat at suggest that this behaviour isn’t directed at male alpacas exclusively, the reputation for regular expectorating appears unwarranted.

A more noticeable indicator of their mood is their humming, as they use different tones to express everything from curiosity and contentment to uncertainty or irritation — and taking the time to observe and understand them is vital, as Dame Kelly discovered. ‘You don’t always know when they are ill, so it is important to observe changes in their character and demeanour,’ she advises. ‘I realised that Crème Caramel had an extremely bad neck and it was causing him to start choking on his food.’ Sadly, she had to have him put down, but her awareness of the issue reduced any suffering.

One thing alpacas certainly don’t seem to enjoy is a manicure. ‘For me, the most challenging part of the husbandry is toenail trimming,’ Westley admits. ‘They wriggle around and even sit on their feet to avoid it. They are strong animals, so it can be a bit of a task.’ Whether they are halter-trained or not doesn’t seem to make much difference. Whereas Dame Kelly holds her hands up — ‘You can tame them to a point that they can use a halter, but I never had time for that when I first got them’ — Raven washed hers of trying to make one alpaca biddable. ‘We attempted to take her to a pet service in the church we live next to,’ she recalls. ‘However, she didn’t want to leave the herd and was prancing everywhere, so we had to take her back. We took a stuffed turtle on a lead instead.’

The annual shearing is an equally challenging task, with the consensus suggesting it is not for the faint-hearted. ‘I will turn my hand to most things, but would not attempt to shear an alpaca,’ Stanford confesses. However, the results are worth it. ‘Their fleece is wonderful,’ Raven remarks. ‘I have about 20 bags of fleece in my loft waiting to be made into something lovely… perhaps next year.’

With such luxurious coverings, it is unsurprising that alpacas enjoy any opportunity to get wet. ‘The first summer we had Matty, I found her trying to get her entire body into her water bucket,’ Stanford remembers, ‘so I bought a padding pool, which they bathe in when it’s hot.’ Westley’s receive similar treatment: ‘We put the sprinkler out so they can cool off. Abbandando dances around it bucking in delight as the water splashes his legs and belly.’ Other bathroom habits are, fortunately, more controlled. ‘Alpacas may be elegant, but they produce an impressive amount of poo,’ Homewood laughs. ‘Thankfully, they are remarkably tidy and use communal poo piles, which makes the daily task considerably easier than it might otherwise be.’

‘If you are looking for a low-maintenance animal to enjoy then they are great, but they aren’t “no maintenance”,’ Westley concludes. ‘They require daily care, which is a commitment (although personally I enjoy the discipline of going out every morning and evening). If you are looking for a fun, affectionate pet, they also might not be the right choice, but if you want a peaceful animal to share your space with, they are perfect. I keep them for the sheer joy they bring. At dusk each evening they start “pronking” — a joyful, bouncing dance. It is such a treat to watch them frolic with obvious happiness.’

Homewood agrees: ‘They are inquisitive, gentle and endlessly entertaining, bringing a sense of peace wherever they are. Watching the herd together on a summer evening is one of life’s simplest pleasures.'

This article first appeared in the October 14, 2026, issue of Country Life. For more information on how to subscribe, click here.