THE glorious countryside, the exhilarating physical challenge, the sheer delight of watching hounds working... When Angela Vaux describes the joy of hunting, her enthusiasm is infectious.

Yet when she gave up recently, she was surprised to find that what she missed most was the sociability of it.

"It's one of those few rural activities in which you have a lot of people involved, a wonderful mix from all sorts of backgrounds - all ages too - and very diverse. And I really miss being part of that."

But hunting is only one small part of the vast jigsaw of country life that Angela is campaigning to preserve. The former Master of the Zetland Hunt is now North East Chairman of the Countryside Alliance - voluntary but almost a full time job. Softly spoken and not liking the limelight, she was reluctant at first to take it on.

"But there comes a time when you have to stand up and say: 'This is what I believe in'. And I do, passionately," she says.

"I worry that Britain as a whole is getting too far from its roots. Too many people in towns and cities have no idea of what life in the countryside is like, of how food is produced, of how it all works, of the real purpose of country pursuits. And if we're not careful, it could all be lost."

The Countryside Alliance is a broad church. As well as vigorously defending field sports, it also campaigns on issues as diverse as honest food, rural transport, animal welfare, rural housing and even broadband access.

"It's all part of life in the countryside that seems to be having a hard time at the moment. Maybe life in the countryside has always been hard but at least in previous times, there was more understanding between town and country," says Angela. Which is why her heart soared at the first Countryside Alliance rally and then the Liberty and Livelihood March in London last year, when the country came to town in their thousands.

"I think it did make a difference. It was a marvellous day. All went very well and it was so good humoured. There were so many different types of people there, representing all aspects of country life. I think we made ourselves heard and I think a lot of people listened," she says.

Now living near Richmond, Angela was born near Doncaster, where her father was a Master of Fox Hounds and she was on a horse from toddlerhood.

"I had such a fantastic childhood that I want others to have the same chance. We're so concerned nowadays that so many children don't have any exercise, just sit watching TV and playing computer games. They are so passive, just watching life and not really involved in anything," she says.

"Here we have young people taking part in something, taking responsibility for their pony, working hard. Hunting is unpredictable and it's a hard physical challenge so they have to be pretty skilled and determined to face up to it. There aren't many opportunities for challenges like that these days."

Angela's grown-up son and daughter, both living and working in London, come home most weekends to hunt, finding it the perfect antidote to city life.

She accepts the concerns of the antis that children might be upset by the bloody spectacle of the kill. "But really, it's not like that," she says. "In any case, hardly anyone sees the actual kill as it's very quick. Think of the size of the hounds compared to the fox - they are very fast and efficient."

If hunting is banned, she is sure there will be far more diseased and wounded foxes in the countryside, as well as more attacks by foxes on young lambs - as has happened in Scotland since the ban.

Angela doesn't shoot or fish but stands up for those who do as part of the way of country life.

"We can't just protect one part, or ban one part. It's a very fragile jigsaw, all interdependent - that is why we have an alliance of all countryside interests, including jobs, houses and rural services. For if one part goes, we don't know how the rest will suffer," she says.

For too long, Angela thinks, the countryside was on the defensive, too busy getting on with life to explain it.

"But we have to be much more open about what we do. There are still people in cities - intelligent, well-meaning people - who have absolutely no idea, for instance, of how cows are milked or animals reared, of how the meat gets to the supermarket. Just as there are children who've never been in a field, a wood or anywhere without houses," she says.

"If all they've ever known is streets and pavements and tower blocks, then of course they aren't going to understand about the countryside and about our problems. And it's up to us to explain it."

The answer, Angela firmly believes, is in education. She's also a great writer of letters - reasonable but determined - to newspapers. She delights in talking to people and is genuinely interested in getting their views, chatting to cab drivers, hairdressers and passers-by at all-night vigils in London. She has even spoken to hunt saboteurs. ("So polite and pleasant until their paymaster turned up, when they felt they had to spit at me.")

When the Countryside Alliance opened the hunting season this month with a "meet" on Tony Blair's doorstep in Trimdon, Angela first went round putting leaflets through letterboxes explaining what was happening and apologising for the disruption (which is a lot more, come to think of it, than the security services bothered to do before President Bush's visit).

"And afterwards, I went round again and talked to a lot of people because I wanted to know what they thought. Most of them were very supportive," she says.

"I'm not trying to persuade everyone to go hunting, or even to like it. I just want them to know what we're about and try to explain the bigger picture. We have to maintain our commitment to the future of the countryside. Whether we'll succeed or not I don't know, but I'm determined to try."