After the noise and general madness of mainland Vietnam, Cat Ba Island was a welcome change. We had decided to stay for about ten days, which was unusually organised for us, and found ourselves a simple guesthouse close to the water. Almost immediately the pace slowed down. There was less traffic, less noise and not much reason to rush anywhere, so we didn’t.

Cat Ba sits on the edge of Lan Ha Bay, with those extraordinary limestone karsts rising straight out of the water in every direction. From the waterfront we watched fishing boats, ferries and little wooden boats moving between them, and it was one of those places where sitting around looking at the view counted as a perfectly legitimate activity. We became quite good at it.

One of the highlights was a boat trip through Lan Ha Bay. We joined a small group on a wooden boat and spent the day winding between the limestone islands, stopping here and there along the way. At one point we climbed into kayaks and paddled through a narrow opening in the rock into a lagoon completely enclosed by cliffs. Once inside it was wonderfully quiet, with nothing much to hear apart from the splash of the paddles and the occasional voice bouncing off the rock walls. We floated around for a while before eventually deciding we should probably paddle back out again.

We also stopped at some of the floating fish farms scattered around the bay. Whole families lived and worked on these platforms with large netted pens beneath them full of fish. We were invited to have a go at fishing ourselves, which mainly demonstrated that the people who did this for a living had absolutely nothing to worry about from us. Our efforts produced very little apart from considerable amusement from everyone watching.

Back on the island, electricity was more of a suggestion than a certainty. The power went off regularly and could stay off for hours. At first this was annoying, particularly when it was hot and the fan stopped working, but after a few days we got used to it. The candles came out, the cards appeared and we sat around waiting for things to spring back to life. There was no Wi-Fi, no television and not much else to do, which was probably quite good for us.

We soon settled into a routine that involved very little planning. Mornings usually started with strong Vietnamese coffee and a wander through the market for fruit or whatever else looked good. Afternoons might involve the beach, a walk somewhere, another boat trip or simply sitting by the water. In the evenings we ate seafood, drank beer and generally discussed what strenuous activity we might avoid doing the following day.

We did make one reasonably serious effort and headed into Cat Ba National Park for a walk through the jungle. As is so often the case, the word “walk” turned out to be doing quite a lot of work. It was hot, humid and steeper than expected, and there were moments when the idea of sitting back down by the water seemed considerably more sensible. Eventually we reached one of the viewpoints, where the forest-covered hills rolled away beneath us with glimpses of the sea beyond. The view was excellent. The climb remained unnecessary.

What we liked most about Cat Ba was that nothing particularly dramatic happened. We didn’t miss a train, lose our passports or accidentally end up in the wrong country. The biggest problem was generally whether the electricity would stay on long enough for the fan to cool the room down.

Instead we spent our days on boats, paddling through lagoons, wandering around the market, eating seafood and watching life on the bay. It was simple, inexpensive and easy, and after weeks of moving around Vietnam that was exactly what we needed.

The ten days went quickly. Not because we had packed them full of things to do, but probably because we hadn’t.