1. Find a reason to do nothing. Vietnam is a fascinating country, and with so many places to go, touts to outsmart and dishes to attempt to order from fully Vietnamese menus, justifying sitting around won't be easy. For a simple way out, try getting really sick. If your stomach proves annoyingly ironclad, the common cold will do. To achieve this, spend a day hiking in the sun and when at night the mountain temperature drops, take a cold shower, loiter around your damp guesthouse, then wander out into the cool humid air.

2. Find the perfect nothing-doing location. A small local town with run of the mill citizens, a nondescript industry and few urban sights will do nicely. Townspeople should be friendly, but not overbearing, and should speak little to no English. A northern Vietnamese locale like Bac Ha will fit the bill. It's dusty, has three average restaurants, and one big event: the Sunday morning market, when for a few hours the town comes alive with colourful hill tribe vendors hawking fresh herbs, patterned handicrafts and an array of meats (both dead and alive) while tourists flock in for a burst of photos and flavours. Aim to arrive in the late afternoon. You'll know you've just missed it when the dirt is still pressed in geometric stall shapes and balls of chicken feathers and threads float from the scene like tumbleweeds.

3. Ensure you won't be tempted to leave. For example, Bac Ha is no more just 60 km from the next big town, but taking a four hour bus to get there is a good idea. The more the bus stops and starts, picking up and dropping off locals – who, if all goes well, will vomit because the bus stops and starts so much – the better. An increase in the amount of people sitting on your lap and in the bags of pigs shoved squealing onto the roof means a decrease in the chance that you will ever want to abandon this town (for fear of repeating the bus ride.) If the region's formidable hill tribe treks look appealing, have a chat with the local tour operator. He'll offer you a 50 dollar a day hike that covers 35 to 40 kilometers on foot. When you protest that you're too sick to walk and too poor to pay, he'll make you deal: “No problem, we'll add on as many extra kilometers as you like.”

4. Check into the emptiest place around. (This is, in fact, not truly possible as the emptiest place is an abandoned historic villa – a hill tribe baron's version of Versailles, built under French colonialists in the 30s, and positioned diagonally from the lake according to professional Chinese Feng Shui advice.) If the guesthouse you've booked has given away your reserved room, and is offering you a closet next to the lobby instead, you're in luck. You have a free pass to go find the largest, quietest hotel in town, and to mysteriously check into its top floor. Try the Sunday Hotel across the square and down the street. It's cheap, vacant and vast, so you won't be tempted to make friends, or even small talk, with other travelers.

5. Make sure the hotel you've chosen has few amenities to speak of. This will ensure that you won't actually be forced to do something. A satellite TV with only two channels, both of which are in Vietnamese, is ideal. A room on the fifth floor is nice, but a room on the fifth floor in a hotel whose elevator is a gaping black hole, is perfect. Once you get up to your room, you won't want to make the trek back out. The view from your window should be pleasant (mountains…) but not beautiful enough to leave you staring (…with clearcut patches.)

6. Fight the urge to act. If you start itching to leave your hotel, try asking for directions from the family of receptionists, none of whom speak English. When you find that despite your cold your appetite is still intact, go ahead, leave the building. Quench your thirst and hunger with a cup of Vietnamese coffee. The local baristas (basically anyone with a tea cup, a thermos and a front porch) dump in more grinds than water, so when the brew finally does drip through, the resulting sludge is strong enough to make you want to avoid it altogether. Conversely, order a glass of the local rice wine – it's homemade, stored in old gasoline containers, and entirely flammable. Plus, it will keep you busy not drinking for at least two hours.

7. Think too much rest might be making you better? Worry not. At 6 am every morning, the Vietnamese morning news crackles to life in Bac Ha. And it stays very much alive, broadcast loudly through strategically-positioned town speakers for the next half hour. If this sort of wake up doesn't keep you restless, wondering why Vietnam is still broadcasting what at least one local calls “news about the war” will.