This Australian island feels like another world - but it's just offshore

As we set off from the Magnetic Island ferry terminal at Nelly Bay in a four-wheel-drive minibus, our guide, Tim Hempstead, reveals he is not really a local.

Although he has been on the island for 15 years, he says it takes 20 to be accepted. If all becoming a local needed was a knowledge test, Tim would have already passed with flying colours, never mind his South African accent.

The island is eight kilometres from Townsville and home to a little more than 2000 people. Most of it is protected as a national park, with settlements close to the coast. It got its name from Captain James Cook, who thought a force emanated from the island to mess with his ship's compass.

Tim tells us most visitors to the island don't see much of the island. Snorkelling is very popular. And a bus runs to Horseshoe Bay from where the ferry gets in. But we would be working our way down to the sparsely populated West Point.

Our first stop is in Picnic Bay. An old pier runs into the water, marking the site where the ferry used to stop and where the day trippers who gave the bay its name alighted on the island.

Soon we are among mangroves, off the bus and walking down into the sand. If anyone can make people excited about mangroves, it's Tim, who explains how they cope with the salty water and tidal incursions. We examine paperbark trees as Tim excitedly points out the importance of the spots where mangroves give way and paperbarks take over.

Paperbarks need fresh water; the salt water would kill them. They grow in the creek beds carrying water down from the mountainous peaks of the island. Mangroves need the salt. Where the two trees are next to each other marks the precise spot where fresh and salt water meet.

Through Tim's eyes, the rich and delicate ecosystem of the island becomes visible. To some visitors, this is just a playground to hoon around in open-topped Suzuki four-wheel-drives, soaking in the sun and sea air. With Tim, it's a deeply complex environment of immense natural wonder found in readily overlooked spaces.

Our tour takes us past the site of the quarantine station that stood on the island in the late 19th century, long since overgrown and reclaimed. And it is in this part of the island where a properly magical thing happens.

Who has seen a koala before? Tim asks. We all have, the two German travellers on the tour and me. What about in the wild? Well, actually, no.

At a particular junction of dirt roads, Tim stops the bus and we get out, craning our necks and looking up at tree forks in hope. Tim's mascot, a plush koala toy wearing a bright red waistcoat, is placed on the front of the bus to encourage his friends. We are introduced the art of scatology and examine tree trunks for the tell-tale marks of koalas heaving themselves upwards.

The right mixture of Tim's experience and good luck soon brings us underneath a particular eucalypt with a couple of good forks. There, despite their fluffy grey backsides blending into the grey bark, we spot two koalas, a baby and its mum, drowsily going about their business, not a care in the world, unaware of the wonder they had inspired in the hearts of the travellers beneath them. Through Tim's binoculars, we share glimpses of their unbothered faces and snooze-led lifestyles.

The morning with Tim ends with tea and biscuits at West Point, the remotest part of Magnetic Island and home to a close-knit community in self-fashioned houses. There is an empty, pristine beach with bright blue water, and it is easy to see why Tim is enthusiastic about sharing this spot with more people.

The great trick of Magnetic Island is it feels much further from anywhere than it really is.

Until I was asked to go to Townsville, I had never thought of taking a trip there. In fact, I'd never been to Queensland. My excitement at seeing the archetypal house on stilts on the way from the airport prompted me to exclaim, "Look, a Queenslander!" I quickly clarified I meant the house lest the Queenslander driving thought I, a southerner, was making fun of the locals.

After adjusting to the heat - and the humidity - or at least doing my best to convince myself I had adjusted, I enjoyed Townsville a great deal.

From learning how to spot the story in mangrove roots and where to best look for koalas, to a wonderfully cold beer in a bar that combined tropical and cosmopolitan in the space of a day, I was reminded there is almost more to appreciate closer to home.

Jasper Lindell travelled as a guest of Townsville Enterprise