There might be a ceasefire, but the people of Gaza are far from free. This is a brief look beyond Israel's fortified border wall.
While Donald Trump says he has grand plans to redevelop Gaza into the "Riviera of the Middle East", the reality is the small territory is still home to a population of Palestinian people who are just trying to survive.
The Israeli bombardment may have stopped, but the partial blockade of Gaza hasn't and the millions of people there remain cut off from the rest of the world.
As the world contemplates Trump's proposal to "take over Gaza", level it and expand his real estate ambitions, the very real and uncertain work of getting vital aid to the population goes on.
The ceasefire between Israel and Hamas has been in force for almost three weeks, and it has allowed for hostages to be released and an increase in aid to enter the strip.
But that access is controlled by Israel and any movement further into Gaza is still heavily restricted.
It's not possible to enter Gaza directly from Israel — the Israeli Defense Forces still control land crossings on three sides.
That's why the ABC has travelled east to Jordan.
Doubling back, we travel south-west over southern Israel and into Gaza, hitching a ride on a mercy mission on board a Royal Jordanian Air Force (RJAF) Black Hawk.
For eight days, there's been a relay service in the air above Jordan and Israel.
On each leg, two helicopters fly in tandem.
The journey into Gaza and back takes about 3.5 hours and as the crews travel towards the border, the scale of the decimation starts to become clearer.
During the war, Palestinian journalists risked their lives to send news of the devastation out of Gaza and bring it to the attention of the world.
This mission is an example of just how difficult it is for Western journalists to get in to tell that story too, and the powerful military that's standing in the way.
Getting aid into Gaza
At first, you can see grey and brown shapes in the distance.
Getting closer, the mangled wreckage starts to come into focus.
The skeletons of buildings, with bombed-out windows and walls, surprisingly remain standing, while others are piles of rubble.
This is just a small sliver of the more than 360 square kilometres that make up the occupied territory of Gaza.
The helicopters are packed to the brim with medical supplies as they make the journey from the military base just outside Amman towards a landing pad inside the Gaza border.
The destination is a buffer zone that Israel Defense Forces (IDF) withdrew to as the ceasefire came into force on January 19, maintaining control of the land along the border fence.
In Israel's words, it's about protecting the communities on the other side who bore the brunt of Hamas's deadly October 7 attacks.
The legacy of that day, when almost 1,200 people were killed, according to Israeli authorities, is still front of mind for the country.
The aid that needs to be rushed into Gaza is a reminder of the almost unimaginable toll the Palestinian population has paid as a result.
More than 47,000 people have been killed and many more have suffered life changing injuries during the Israeli bombardment, according to the Gaza Health Ministry.
As we fly over the fence line, it's a no-man's-land.
Excavators have cut access roads through the dirt on both sides of the steel and barbed wire.
On the Israeli side, there are agricultural fields leading up to the barrier.
On the Gazan side, what was once farmed land is now something far less cultivated.
This aid is being flown in because of its high value and high demand, with agencies not wanting it sitting on trucks on highways for hours on end.
Our access, and the access of this aid mission, is restricted to one small corner of Gaza.
Each day, the Jordanians communicate with the Israelis about their flights.
If the IDF says they're not allowed in, the Jordanians say they cannot fly.
But the RJAF want to fly.
And as comfortable as they are with their mission, they're wary too that one slip could trigger Israel pulling its permissions.
Before the ceasefire came into force, aid was entering Gaza — but it was much less than what humanitarian organisations said was required.
Warnings were issued about the healthcare system collapsing and of starvation becoming the norm in some parts of the territory.
The Israeli authorities publish how many tonnes enter the strip.
Late last year, their own data showed deliveries had dropped to levels drastically lower than before the war, prompting global outrage and threats from the Biden White House to halt military support to the IDF.
Israel maintained supplies were getting in, but it was the fault of humanitarian agencies for not distributing it.
The response was telling — that Israel's ongoing strikes made that task too difficult.
Since the pause in hostilities, the situation has improved, but restrictions are still in place.
And they are far tighter than they were before the war, when Gaza was already described as the world's largest open-air prison.
Pilots of the 'air bridge'
After months of negotiations with Israel, the Jordanian government succeeded in creating a humanitarian aid "air bridge" to Gaza.
The choppers, flown by the 8th Squadron, land at a helipad at Wadi Al Salqa.
We're near the Kissufim land crossing into Gaza and are under the watchful eye of an Israeli lookout post close to the border fence.
The Royal Jordanian Air Force 8th Squadron was trained to help the Kingdom of Jordan battle ISIS from the air, identifying moving targets and attacking them with forward-firing guns.
But almost 10 years later, with ISIS eliminated, the squadron keeps itself busy mainly through training.
Over the past week, it has found a new purpose — delivering baby formula, adult nappies and absorbable sutures.
"Jordan is a peaceful country," said one of 8th Squadron's pilots this week, almost sheepishly when asked what the squadron normally does these days.
"We don't have any wars."
The Jordanian aircrew said they felt a deep sense of fulfilment helping the Palestinians.
"It's really great to do this," a pilot who was on his fifth aid flight said proudly over the noise of the helicopter blades.
"I am very happy to be helping our people in Gaza."
The donations gathered by the Jordan Hashemite Charity Organization (JHCO), and put on the choppers, come from countries such as Jordan, Qatar, Greece, Egypt and Malaysia.
"We're doing this operation since one week ago," Hussein Al-Shebli, secretary-general of the JHCO tells the ABC.
"From Jordan to Gaza, we're carrying high-value items which there was a need for in Gaza, like some medicines, medical equipment, some food items for the baby, baby milk."
Even though the eight-day window for the flights is coming to a close, Dr Al-Shebli is hopeful the Israeli authorities might allow them to continue while the initial six-week ceasefire continues.
"I think with this coordination, it can go smoothly now for these days … but, for sure, there are some obstacles here and there, but we can manage for that."
Again, access is the issue.
Our time on the ground is just five or so minutes, so the RJAF crew operate with the speed of a Formula 1 pit crew as they unpack the tonne of aid aboard each Black Hawk.
Then, we're back in the air, but the aid continues on — well past the boundary of where international media has been permitted to go.
A couple of hundred metres away from the razor wire and fencing surrounding the helipad, there are half a dozen white trucks lined up waiting.
After the choppers take off, the boxes they've left behind are loaded on board.
There's no contact between the air crew and the drivers.
The World Food Program (WFP) is in charge of logistics for the entry of humanitarian aid into the Gaza Strip.
It organised the trucks to transport the medical aid to the World Health Organization warehouse.
The semitrailers, emblazoned with WFP logos, rumble along the bombed-out streets into Deir al Balah, where the pallets are deposited in a warehouse, ready to be sent out to hospitals and clinics across Gaza as needed.
International media unable to access Gaza
For the duration of the war in Gaza, Israel has kept tight control over everything going in and out of the territory.
Even before Hamas's October 7, 2023, attacks, which served as the catalyst for this latest war, Israel called all the shots.
Over the past 15 months, however, the only media access into Gaza has been limited to short overland trips alongside Israel Defense Forces personnel.
And many outlets have not been able to secure spots on those trips, despite repeated requests.
Last year, the Foreign Press Association (FPA) in Israel petitioned the Supreme Court, demanding passage for journalists into the Gaza Strip.
The case was rejected, but since the ceasefire came into force, it has reiterated its calls for access.
"These unprecedented restrictions have severely hindered reporting, robbing the world of a full picture of the situation in Gaza and placing an undue and dangerous burden on our Palestinian colleagues in the territory," the FPA said in a statement on January 23.
"These journalists have risked their lives to keep the world informed of this crucial story.
"With a ceasefire now in place and military activity scaled back, there is no justification for any further delay in granting access."
It's another reason why this trip with the RJAF is novel.
However fleeting, it is an insight into the devastation in the Occupied Palestinian Territory.
Middle Eastern nations have wanted to shine a light on what's occurred in Gaza, and international media have been keen to see it too.
Bit by bit, that pressure has been building.
Although Israel shows little sign of yielding and throwing open the gates.
Jordan was named by Donald Trump as a possible place to resettle the people of Gaza should his proposal to take over the strip come to fruition.
The kingdom acts as a steady hand in a destabilised region — a partner of the US and recipient of $2.7 billion in funding from Washington every year.
Jordan has long been a conduit between emergency aid and the people of Gaza, but it rejects Mr Trump's proposal that it will go further.
Next week, Jordan's King Abdullah is expected to travel to Washington and those talks will now have a very different tone, given this latest pitch from the White House.
More than half of Jordan's population is of Palestinian descent.
The ties are strong, but it doesn't want to become a de facto Palestinian state.
Mr Trump called Gaza a "hell hole" while he stood beside the commander-in-chief of a military that has dropped tens of thousands of tonnes of bombs and missiles on the strip since October 7, 2023.
It took 15 months to reach a ceasefire, and less than 15 days in office for Mr Trump to try to put his fingerprint on the future of Gaza.
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu had prioritised the trip to the US over preparations for the so-called Phase Two of the ceasefire, which under the initial deal was due to start earlier this week.
During those negotiations, a plan for the return of all remaining Israeli hostages held by Hamas in Gaza, the further withdrawal of the IDF, and ultimately a lasting peace in the strip were meant to be drafted.
The latter may have been a pipedream, given the challenging history in Gaza — even before the past 15 months of war.
But the Trump proposal has turned all of that on its head, potentially giving a green light to Israel to restart fighting and Hamas to avoid returning the hostages it still holds.
It's an incredibly delicate moment.
One which the teams flying the Royal Jordanian Air Force hope is handled with care — in the same way they deal with the boxes of aid they escort into Gaza.
Credits:
Reporting: Middle East correspondent
Photography: and Haidarr Jones
Story research and production: Orly Halpern
Digital production and editing: and
