This week, a group of six very un-busy Kiwis claimed a small island for New Zealand.
Planting the flag, they dubbed their conquest New New Zealand Island – NNZI for short.
The hitherto unnamed clump of land is located in the middle of the Goulburn River estuary, next to Eildon in Victoria, Australia.
Jeremy Shanks, one of the landing party, said the expedition came from boredom and the discovery that the clump of land was not recognised on any maps.
"We just decided to claim it for the country."
Within view of the Australian town of Eildon, they were encouraged by short-sighted locals.
"They were very proud until they realised it was a New Zealand flag," he told the Herald, "but they don't really mind, they're still happy for us."
While the expedition was more out of procrastination rather than patriotism, the gang joined a long tradition of founding micronations.
The Collins English Dictionary defines a micronation as "an entity, typically existing only on the internet or within the private property of its members, that lays claim to sovereign status as an independent nation, but which is unrecognised by real nations." Zing, Collins!
They are, however, also a proud New Zealand pastime.
A little closer to home is the self-styled country of Aramoana. The "Independent State'"outside of Dunedin is a wildlife reserve which succeeded from New Zealand in 1980 to protest a proposed aluminum smelting plant – it even issued passports and postal stamps.
Or there is the slightly more tongue in cheek Republic of Whangamomona in the Stratford district, which declared independence from NZ in 1989. Though the incentive to do this was less noble than saving marine birds, it succeeding in establishing the small town on the "Forgotten World Highway" as a tourist destination. The "Republic" still issues entry visas and will stamp your passport for $2.
It's not only Aotearoa that has exclusive claim to these new country projects.
Here are a few others who chose to go it alone.
With a flag that looks suspiciously like the Hundertwasser Koru, the Republic of Morac-Songhrati-Meads later known as the "Kingdom of Humanity" was a former micronation in the South China Sea. Purportedly claimed by Captain James Meads "on behalf of the world's downtrodden and persecuted", its origins are well meaning if dubious.
One micronation which has more concrete foundations is the Principality of Sealand. Based on an abandoned Second World War Naval installation in the North Sea, it was occupied by the Bates family in 1967. Since then, the tiny country has had a turbulent history. It was once a pirate radio station and in 1978, during a scene straight from a "based on true events, all-star, action" movie, it was invaded by mercenaries who were later repelled in a daring raid by the Bates family. IMDB states the film is in the works.
In 1997, Czech photographer Tomas Harabis founded the kingdom as an "elaborate joke" - the country has issued over 80,000 passports and has pegged its "official" currency (the Jurovalsar) to the Euro, at an exchange rate of 1:1.
During an 2008 incident reported in The Independent, the peaceful joke became "distinctly unfunny", when there was a fall out between Harabis and his comedian friend Bolek Polivka -"King of Wallachia" - when he sought a princely commission on the Wallachian passports.
When there's nothing as far as the eye can see, you may appreciate the company.