I love visiting islands.
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And somewhat ironically, I am a Tasmanian who can't wait to visit another island.
On most occasions, it's the peacefulness and seclusion that calms the soul and makes us think of good things.
From leaping rock to rock, or vineyard to craft brewery, or boutique accommodation to free camping, there are moments of inspiration and relaxation that can be found on stunning outcrops.
But not every island fits this description.
Some islands have significant tourist infrastructure to support visitors including five star hotels, silver service restaurants, and wellness centres along with bicycles, scooters, golf carts, and buses and trains to showcase the environment, both natural and manmade.
Recently I visited one such island and boarded a heritage train.
Johnny Cash in his song Folsom Prison Blues, written in 1953, crooned:
"I hear the train a-comin', it's rolling round the bend."
The rest of the lyrics don't fit my narrative as it was a stinking hot day and Cash talked of a prisoner not seeing sunshine "...since I don't know when", but it's the lyric that stuck in my mind.
Some islands are major tourist attractions and come summertime, it's peak island hopping when as many people as possible are crammed on boats to visit for the day or for those lucky enough, perhaps a few.
Wajemup/ Rottnest Island is one of these bustling meccas.
Some call the yachts and cruisers moored during late December and early January as millionaire's row, a nod to the regular mining booms that supercharge the West Coast of Australia at regular intervals.
Accommodation is booked up to 12 months in advance unless you are prepared to pay exorbitant prices for your piece of paradise to be shared with the masses.
Rottnest is packed from shore to shore during the holiday season, creating a magical experience that is very different to those from regional parts of the eastern states.
Although it was not always the tourist mecca that it is now.
In 1937, as Adolf Hitler asserted his leadership, a 9.2inch (234mm) Mk 10 Coastal Artillery gun with a range of 29 kilometres was built on Oliver Hill to protect the strategic shipping port of Fremantle.
The gun was never fired in anger.
In the extreme heat of a Western Australian summer, the 64-seat Captain Hussey train we had boarded 20 minutes prior broke down - overheating and coming to a complete stop.
In the beginning, the patrons were amused, sitting back, or leaning out the windows, taking photos and taking in the scenery, albeit a barren landscape that hadn't felt the pitter-patter of rain for 40 days and 40 nights.
As the passengers heated, we were encouraged to relax and wait or walk the 500 metres to our destination.
To explain the heat of the day, I fed water to a parched blue tongue lizard straight from the bottle!
Our party thought the situation brilliant, comical in fact, but there were others who were worried.
The train was full of passengers from Europe and Asia and visitors like us who had chosen to leave an island to visit another.
There were concerns voiced about the heat and walking, the lack of water, and when the historic train would cool down enough to resume operation.
The locomotive had seen tougher days, but it had also seen better days.
The scene made me reflect on photos and television programs depicting well-dressed migrants arriving at processing camps in outback Australia during the 1950s.
New Australians reached a land so barren and hot that it was overwhelming and disorientating, leaving them questioning the flyers and promises that had been made prior to passage to the Great Southern Land.
There were those who were out of their comfort zone and others like us, in thongs, who thought that modelling a willingness to walk would encourage our fellow passengers.
Sure, we carried one of those large water containers that teenagers must have and grieve when inevitably scratched, but we knew it would be ok.
We were on a tourist mecca after all, this just wasn't one of its better days.
Eventually, we did "...hear the train a-comin'", and back down the hill we rolled with the promise made by the operators not to sell any more tickets, but on return to the station the promise was rescinded, and the heritage train would stop again.
Thankfully, on our Island, we are much better.
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