From above, Gaza is like the aftermath of an apocalypse

Seen from the air, Gaza looks like the ruins of an ancient civilisation, brought to light after centuries of darkness.

- Lorenzo Tondo

A patchwork of concrete shapes and shattered walls, neighbourhoods scattered with craters, rubble and roads that lead nowhere. The remnants of cities wiped out.

But here, there has been no natural disaster and no slow passage of time. Gaza was a bustling, living place until less than two years ago, for all the challenges its residents endured even then.

Its markets were crowded, its streets were full of children. That Gaza, today, is gone - not buried under volcanic ash, not erased by history, but razed by an Israeli military campaign that has left behind a place that looks like the aftermath of an apocalypse.

The Guardian was granted permission yesterday to travel aboard a Jordanian military aircraft after Israel announced last week that it had resumed coordinated humanitarian airdrops over Gaza.

The decision followed mounting international pressure over severe shortages of food and medical supplies, which have reached such a crisis point that a famine is now unfolding there.

The flight offered not only a chance to witness three tonnes of aid - far from being enough - dropped over the famine-stricken strip but also a rare opportunity to observe, albeit from above, a territory that has been largely sealed off from international media since 7 October and the subsequent offensive launched by Israel.

In response to the Hamas-led attacks that day, Israel barred foreign journalists from entering Gaza - an unprecedented move in the history of modern conflict.

Even from an altitude of 2,000 feet, it was possible to glimpse places that mark some of the conflict's most devastating chapters - a landscape etched with the scars of its deadliest attacks.