My own travelling companions appeared to share my stoicism. A Canadian mining engineer, bound for Bishkek, quietly spoken, unflustered, probably just resigned to the situation. He’d flown from Toronto the previous day. Had done quite a bit of cycle touring in the past, and shared a few anecdotes. And a young woman studying the fashion business. Paris. Haute Courtière. Freelance writer for Harpers Bazaar. We chatted about films for quite a while, her love of old movies, Casablanca, Alfred Hitchcock, Audrey Hepburn.

Two hours into the supposed flight back to Almaty and we were still on the apron. Technical problems. The only 757 left in the airline’s fleet, a single in-flight film that flickered between colour washed technicolour and black and white. Teased by the cabin magazine extolling the virtues of their other, rather more modern, aircraft.

I’d spent my last night in the UK for some time in one of the smaller London hostels, enjoying a final coffee in the well-kept courtyard garden. Listening to opera being performed in a large marquee in the adjacent park. Retired early, only to be woken suddenly by the fire alarm. 3.32am. Hastily dressed, standing for a while in the barely perceptible drizzle before the inevitable all clear. Dozed for a few more hours, restless, before rising just after five. Pensive.

I sat once more in the courtyard, alone, the damp air invigorating, helping stave off the inevitable weariness for a little while longer. Reflecting on my time back in the UK. A perfect, orderly world. I knew it wasn’t, it just seemed it. I’d kept myself busy, securing visas, a second passport, a stab at documentary making. And time spent with close family. My parents. And a chance to see my young niece, just a few weeks old when I’d last seen her days before departure the previous autumn. Memories for the road.

There were rules. Strictly business. Fresh visas, a second passport, a visit to see Laura and The Outward Bound Trust’s fund-raising team in the Capital. Confined largely to London and the Consulates, far from my own home in Somerset. Contact limited mostly to close family. I was here to get a job done, quickly and efficiently, before returning to the fray.

It’s established practice for those on long-haul expeditions to be able to return to their home country once in a while. Of course, some don’t. But, provided you keep it short, and it’s for good reason, that’s ok. An accepted necessity.

Just as the expedition has evolved into as much, if not more, a mental challenge as a physical one, the real issue I’d had to contend with was the psychology of return to one’s home country. Hence the rules, the absolute focus on treating it as a Nation of Convenience. No wandering off, drifting, getting too settled.

A few people, well-intentioned, had suggested I might return in secret, the minimum of fuss. But that would have compromised that most fundamental of principles, the unwavering honesty of the blog, if only by omission. And that’s how the mini-documentary, "Nation of Convenience" came about.

I’d been toying for a while with the idea of making a short documentary for the website. Something new. Fresh. I’d a little time on my hands between visas, thought it might be interesting to explore the political and cultural sides of London as if it was the Capital of one of the less reputable ’Stans. Lots of material. And a bit of fun as well. Thought it would help me stay focused, and, with a few carefully selected landmarks, allow my destination to be revealed gradually.

In practice, developing the storyboard, scripting, shooting and editing took quite a bit longer than I’d ever imagined. Wasn’t exactly finished in the Departure lounge at Heathrow, but close. Not quite as polished as I’d have liked, but it was only ever meant to be a visual essay. Might do another sometime soon. Working title "Enter the Dragon", assuming I don’t bump into Bruce Lee first.

[The author would particularly welcome constructive feedback on the "Nation of Convenience" documentary, his first stab at programme making. But no need to mention one of the continuity errors - the frequent swaps between red and blue t-shirts. Spotted that one! And if you’re feeling brave, see if you can list all the locations, and the landmarks in the background]

Nation of Convenience – Episode Three from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.

The final instalment of Ken’s mini-documentary about his time in a Nation of Convenience. Still curious as to which country this might be? There are a few clues in this episode, not least in the final scene….

Nation of Convenience – Episode Two from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.

In the second of three instalments, Ken continues his exploration of the politics and culture of his Nation of Convenience.

Nation of Convenience – Episode One from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.

In the first of a three part mini-documentary, Ken explores the politics and culture of his Nation of Convenience