Want a taste of the Andes without forking out for the trans-Atlantic flight? There is a herd of delightful llamas to be found in the fields behind The Merry Harriers Inn in the quaint village of Hambledon, Surrey, in which you can walk under the guidance of the equally delightful young llama handler, Clara. Afterwards, you can return to the inn for a pint and a roast, before retiring to your shepherd’s hut for a soak in the wood-fired hot tub. Or at least, that’s how I spent one relaxing weekend with the boyfriend and dog recently. I can highly recommend it.
I was told to be sensitive with my designated llama, 15-year-old Goji
I haven’t been the camping type since Glastonbury 2016 when the rains were torrential (also not fun: finding out the Brexit result along with hundreds of thousands of Remainers). But I was intrigued by The Merry Harriers’ promise of a shepherd’s hut kitted out with a hot tub, and it exceeded expectations. This kind of camping I could do.
Have you seen those home renovation shows where they try to make a tiny place as liveable as possible? Carving in clever storage, letting in light with windows and mirrors, distilling the functions of a kitchen down to its most useful basics? These shepherd’s huts could have featured. In a space not much bigger than your average teenager’s bedroom, our hosts somehow fit in: a double bed kitted out with a down duvet and plenty of pillows; two chairs; a coffee table; a wood-fired stove; a corner kitchenette (sink, kettle, fridge, shelves, bin); wardrobes; and en suite bathroom. The bathroom itself had a ceramic sink and toilet, fluffy robes and, a rarity even for glamping, a generous, fully pressurised rainfall shower. How they kept up the water pressure and temperature I do not know, but if only all camping could be like this.
I’m not saying I could have lived there, but for a weekend trip, it was absolutely perfect for two plus a dog (mine is small to medium-sized). The view from the bed was a clear pond and some fields beyond, where horses graze. It was hard to believe that such bucolic bliss was just an hour’s drive from London.
On the first evening, we passed a very pleasant few hours, stargazing and toasting marshmallows by the fire pit outside the hut. On the second, we stepped in the hot tub with a book each, as dusk fell on a crisp sunny evening and the dog slept inside.
And what about the llamas? Here The Merry Harriers have an ingenious business plan. The animals were bought by a previous landlord; they still need to be walked, so why not make them an attraction rather than a burden? Animal-loving London types (like me) would pay for the privilege.
In South America, llamas are used as trekking animals, but in Surrey, there is little need for baggage carrying. I was told to be sensitive with my designated llama, 15-year-old Goji, because as a baby he’d been neutered before the anaesthetic kicked in, leaving him with a lifelong trauma about being touched. There was also the fabulous Lorenzo, who at one point tried to make a run for it; lovely Champagne, who wanted nothing more than be friends with my dog (Amber was more sceptical about these strange giants); and the gritty black-furred Diesel, who was the cool kid of the herd.
I’ll admit it started chaotically – our group of five humans, a dog, and four llamas took a while to get going, even though we weren’t contending with Andean altitudes. The llamas are as strong as they look and perhaps more stubborn than mules when they see a tasty bramble (‘three grazes per stop, then move them on’, Clara the handler advised). But once we settled into the rhythm, it was a pleasant, even peaceful, ramble through the stunning Surrey hills.
We ended in the Harriers with a cold pint and a warming roast. Even Amber got a dog’s dinner of rice, peas and chicken (bougie at £5 but well deserved). It wasn’t quite Machu Picchu, but a wholesome weekend escape from the city.
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