This year is the 200th anniversary of the Battle of Trafalgar. KEN BENNETT makes a spiritual journey to Nelson's Norfolk ahead of the celebrations

I AM seated on a worn, high-backed wooden settle, on which a half-blind sailor with a long pigtail and a shattered right arm once dreamed of winning wars.

This is north west Norfolk - Nelson's Norfolk - the birthplace and homeland of Vice Admiral Lord Horatio Nelson, Duke of Bronte.

Here, just off the coast, on these often wild, unpredictable waters, our colourful and arguably most accomplished seaman learned his skills.

Little has changed at the pub in his home village of Burnham Thorpe, apart from its name. Before young Horatio had hoisted his jib and gone to sea at 12, the inn was simply called The Plough.

But a single musket round which mortally wounded him in the final hours of the victorious Battle of Trafalgar, not only changed the course of history but many of the nation's pub names too. Now it's the Lord Nelson.

Cradle a glass of Nelson's Blood, a heady brew of 100 per cent proof rum and herbs; stroll the hostelry's uneven, narrow passageways; dip into the low-beamed lounge or just stand with your back to the blazing fire: I promise you will actually believe Horatio could be sharing your company from his shadowy settle in the corner.

For all his courage, Nelson suffered poor health. He was regularly seasick. Perhaps that's why he yearned so much for Norfolk's huge skies, stunning seascapes and pristine villages.

In almost every letter he wrote to family and friends he talked with great affection about his county. "I'm a Norfolk man," he said, "and glory in being so."

He was the son of a local rector and the simple church he attended still stands. Take a tour of this great, rounded rump of Britain. Villages with resolute English names like Brancaster, Burnham Market, Swaffham and the striking, relatively unspoiled, town of King's Lynn.

Here bright squares throng with excellent shops, linking narrow alleyways to delightful cottages tucked in private flower-decked courtyards.

The Maritime Trail traces the town's proud seafaring history back centuries when it was Britain's key port.

Scattered everywhere across this richly-diverse county are marvellous inns and hotels, all claiming a link or two with Our Hero.

Gazing over the mud flats and deep creeks from the weather-worn deck of the multi-award winning White Horse at Brancaster Staithe, a local fisherman, whose family trace their roots back to Nelson's time, regaled me with stories of ancient smugglers.

We dined, appropriately, on a sailor's feast of fat, local mussels washed down with a feisty pint of home-brewed ale.

Later, a trip from Wells-Next-The-Sea, on the beautiful sailing barge Juno gave me a chance to savour just how Nelson learned to navigate sailboats in the tricky, deceptive, shallows.

Back on land, I visited Great Yarmouth, formerly a Naval base. Here, victorious from the Battle of the Nile, he was given a hero's welcome and granted the freedom of the borough.

When the town clerk was administering the oath, he noticed Nelson had placed his left hand on the Bible. "Your right hand, My Lord," he said. "That," replied Nelson curtly, "is at Tenerife."

The Norfolk Nelson Museum celebrates his life and times. There you can learn about his mesmerising personality and even his scandalous love life.