Police and sniffer dogs break the still of a spring, Saturday morning, searching church pews and pulpit to protect the VIP.

In a week when Home Secretary David Blunkett was rarely out of the news, his visit to St George's Church, Kendal, was low key, but tight security and England's top law enforcement officer go hand in hand.

He likes the gentle quiet of South Lakes.

The blind politician who lists poetry, sailing and sleep among his main hobbies escapes here when he can.

It seemed surreal that one of the country's most influential men was addressing a small church gathering about his dreams of a "safe, tolerant and just society".

His friend of 30 years, St George's vicar Alan Billings, had suggested the Home Secretary address a packed congregation from the pulpit.

"I don't want to be seen to be preaching," retorted David Blunkett and opted for a small, upstairs meeting room.

We sit uncomfortably in a St George's pew, the Home Secretary clutching Braille notes.

Lucy, his fourth guide dog, a stoic black curly-haired retriever mix, takes a short break at his feet.

He tells me how Dr.

Billings had tried to keep him on the straight and narrow when they were leader and deputy leader of Sheffield City Council and how he had spent his New Year here.

"After London, the sheer peace and quiet is magical.

We went to Beatrix Potter's place and walked by the tarns.

When I sail here, it is usually on Ullswater."

Elected to parliament in 1987, he says he works 16-hour days.

Early morning sees him with aides, going over newspapers and documents, sorting out what needs committing to tape or Braille.

After long days, he can take a dozen or more tapes home with him.

He tells me he has a reputation for being blunt, but likes to think he is a man of the people.

See Leisure - Lakes People for Karen Barden's full interview.