One of the oldest cities in the world and filled with heritage sites, Jerusalem has for centuries been captured, divided, conquered, destroyed and rebuilt many times over by various empires and nations to this very day.

Key points: The Al-Aqsa Mosque is a compound containing many religiously significant sites

The Al-Aqsa Mosque is a compound containing many religiously significant sites Judaism, Christianity and Islam all lay claim to Jerusalem's history and importance

Judaism, Christianity and Islam all lay claim to Jerusalem's history and importance There are restrictions on who can enter the Al-Aqsa

But at the heart of the unrest, the Old City of Jerusalem — the now walled-off, 100-hectare piece of land that straddles East and West Jerusalem — is what billions of people have long-considered to be one the holiest places on Earth.

The world's three major Abrahamic religions — Judaism, Christianity, and Islam — are all based on texts, stories and rituals with fundamental yet varying spiritual connections to this ancient land, and for this reason it has remained one of the most contested places in the world until this very day.

In Islam, the significance revolves around the Al-Aqsa Mosque, which many Muslims believe Allah metaphysically transported the Prophet Mohammed to from Mecca one night, ordering him to pray five times a day while setting him on his spiritual journey.

The Al-Aqsa Mosque — which translates into "the furthest mosque" due to the story and is believed to be where Mohammed faced while praying before changing to the Kaaba — is hence considered Islam's third-holiest site, behind Mecca and Medina in Saudi Arabia.

Being a Muslim Indonesian and an intrepid traveller, I'd visited Mecca and Medina in neighbouring Saudi Arabia many times, but never made it west to Jerusalem despite it being on my bucket list for years.

Part of this was due to travel limitations and finances, but also due to fears about security being a journalist in addition to the fact that — while not necessarily hostile to each other — Israel and Indonesia have no formal diplomatic ties to this day.

To highlight my concern, last year, and for reasons still unknown, Indonesia barred Israelis from entering the country — subsequently reciprocated by Israel — which was speculated to be due to the violence over Donald Trump's controversial decision to move the US Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem.

The Old City of Jerusalem is home to Al-Aqsa, Temple Mount and Church of the Sepulchre. ( ABC News: Erwin Renaldi )

Thousands of travellers were left stranded in both countries without access to consular assistance or an embassy.

The ban was relaxed after a month, but it demonstrated the political climate and tensions at the heart of my concern.

So from the get-go, being a Muslim journalist living in Australia on a permanent residency visa — Indonesia does not allow dual-nationality — getting there was no easy or comfy feat.

Crossing into Israel via Egypt's vast Sinai Desert

Jerusalem has been contested for centuries. ( ABC News: Jarrod Fankhauser )

Indonesians can only travel to Israel on single-entry group visas with a minimum number of five travellers — not as individuals — and the visa must be obtained through a travel agency.

It took a couple of months to get the visa — which turned out to not be attached to my passport but a detachable coupon — and I was ready to go. Interestingly I was told that Israeli visas for Indonesians are delivered like this so that they can be disposed of after to avoid problems entering countries that bar travellers who have been to Israel.

A blacked out example of the disposable Israeli visa I received. ( ABC News )

However, rather than just fly into popular Tel Aviv, I signed up to a common pilgrimage route that flies travellers into Egypt instead in order to travel by land up through the Sinai Desert, into Israel and the Palestinian territories, before ending up in Jordan.

I landed in Cairo in early November, where we were then bussed across the Nile river heading north-east through the vast desert past Mount Sinai — where many people believe Moses received the Ten Commandments from God — through to the border town of Taba.

Before we reached the border, our guide insisted that we memorise all of the answers on our visa application — even our grandfather's full name as it does not have the same surname — just to minimise any room for misunderstanding or suspicion.

The guide also emphasised the importance of "not mentioning Palestine" or the name "Al-Aqsa" unless we were specifically asked about them because doing so would "prolong the immigration process".

While the Israeli-Egyptian border has witnessed terror attacks, during my trip I found it serene and stunning — partly because the border sits at the end of the Red Sea, and is a stone's throw from Jordan, and Saudi Arabia too, allowing you to see all four countries at once.

After numerous checkpoints, I arrived in the Israeli coastal town of Eilat. ( ABC News: Erwin Renaldi )

As I crossed between the Egyptian border town of Taba into Eilat in Israel there were queues of buses and people, and a number of checkpoints — five in fact — all guarded by security, police and military officials armed with machine guns on either side.

The whole process took roughly two hours and along the way I was asked a series of questions by two separate Israel border officials in addition to a random screening — and taking photos or video was strictly prohibited.

"Did anybody from Egypt give you anything to bring over?" "No." "Show me your Australian visa." "Here you go." "Where are you going?" "Hebron, Jericho and Jerusalem." "What do you do for work? "I'm a journalist."

Despite preparing for the trip by reading advisories and not doing anything wrong, I still found myself extremely nervous going through the motions — but after it was all over, it didn't seem like such a big deal outside of my head, and I was on my way.

From the Red Sea straight to Al-Aqsa Mosque

Jerusalem's Old City comprises the four quarters highlighted above, including the Al-Aqsa compound. ( ABC News )

From Eilat, the group then hopped on a bus to head inland straight to Jerusalem — after a long, four-hour journey with no stops and barren views of plateaus and deserts amid a setting sun, we finally arrived at the Old City where we stayed at the Muslim Quarter.

The next morning, we made our way to Al-Aqsa Mosque — which is actually a 14-hectare compound that sits on top of a hill and houses several mosques, including the iconic golden Dome of the Rock which many mistakenly believe is the Al-Aqsa Mosque.

The Muslim Quarter isn't so heavily guarded, however, the entrance into Al-Aqsa is and I felt pretty uneasy passing by all the heavily-armed Israeli security forces.

Many people think this is the Al-Aqsa mosque but it's actually the Dome of the Rock. ( ABC News: Erwin Renaldi )

The status and ownership of the Al-Aqsa Compound, which Jews refer to as the Temple Mount and carries sacred pre-Islamic history, is a highly contentious issue in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with both sides laying claim to the area — hence why it's often the focal point of clashes between Muslim worshippers and Israeli forces, and where the Second Intifada was started in 2000.

However, while the Old City of Jerusalem is wholly under Israeli control, the Al-Aqsa Compound remains under the administration of a Jordanian and Palestinian-led religious trust while Israeli forces secure its perimeters, with various restrictions on who can enter the complex often put in place by Israeli authorities for security reasons.

So despite its significance in Islam, not all Muslims are free to enter the compound as they please.

Muslim travellers from overseas — like us group of Indonesians — are usually fine, but for many Palestinian Muslims in the West Bank, various restrictions have been in place for years; for example, when I went, women of all ages could enter, but only men over the age of 50 were permitted, while some needed special permission from Israeli authorities.

The Al-Aqsa compound has four mosques, including Al-Qibly. ( ABC News: Erwin Renaldi )

And since a security crackdown by the Israeli Government in 2017, Muslims living in the Old City are only able to enter or pray at the mosque on Fridays and Islamic holidays.

Restrictions are also in place for non-Muslims, who are only allowed to enter the compound during certain times of the day determined by the Israeli Government.

So passing by all the guards stopping various people, with the knowledge and images of recent tensions in the air despite all the protocols and recent violence during my visit, there were no metal detectors or barriers in sight, and we pretty much walked straight in no questions asked.

Once inside it was serene and security-free, but I also felt a little uncomfortable by the fact that an Indonesian Muslim could waltz right in and take a photo like the one below, while people who had lived down the road for years could not.

After joining the dawn prayer in congregation at the Al-Qibly mosque. ( Supplied )

That aside, being in the compound was a unique experience of total serenity for me, particularly after the dawn prayer at the Al-Qibly Mosque — the main mosque in the compound where prayers are led — while the sun was rising to the sound of chirping birds flying around the big golden Dome of the Rock.

However, I also experienced unshakeable feelings of sorrow and pity, especially when I entered the Al-Qibly Mosque which was extremely bare for one of Islam's holiest sites, especially when compared to my experiences at other grand mosques like the Sultan Ahmed Mosque — also known as the Blue Mosque — in Istanbul.

Other visitors told me that the mosque is rarely ever full — except on Fridays when it is reportedly much busier — and when I heard the call to prayer, it all just sounded and felt different. On the one hand it was spiritual, but tinged with despondency and despair.

Inside Al-Qibly mosque, the main mosque in the Al-Aqsa compound where the imam led the congregation prayer. ( ABC News: Erwin Renaldi )

Later, some local Palestinians offered us fresh dates to eat and coffee blended with some cardamom.

"Thank you for coming to Al-Aqsa, it brings us joy and keeps Al-Aqsa alive," one of them said as we walked out of the compound.

History and spirituality fractured into space and time

I stayed in Jerusalem's Old City for three nights overall, which is divided on the basis of its historic religious significance; so in addition to the Muslim Quarter where I stayed, there are also Jewish, Armenian and Christian quarters.

I spent my time wandering throughout the historic areas, talking to shopkeepers, which was truly serene and largely peaceful and relatively security-free away from the Al-Aqsa Compound.

Inside the Al-Aqsa I also visited locations mentioned in the Koran, including The Chamber of Mary — yes, Muslims also believe Jesus is one of their prophets.

This small room is believed to be the chamber of Mary, the mother of Jesus. ( ABC News: Erwin Renaldi )

However, over the years there have been continual clashes and disputes over the land and while I roamed freely through the Christian Quarters and beyond, I was told I would need special permission to visit the Jewish Quarters or the Western Wall.

Also known as the Wailing Wall, it is a significant holy site for the Jewish faith which believes it is a remaining part of a Jewish temple built by King Solomon.

While Jerusalem's multi-faith religious history has long kept it one of the most contested places on earth, the perpetual conflict has long spread into the socio-political sphere beyond the devout and holy.

Both Israel and the Palestinian Authority claim Jerusalem as their capital city, and its historical significance has not only convoluted the contours of the physical land itself while polarising nations across the Middle East, but become part of the fabric of domestic politics all around the world.

For example, it was clear that Mr Trump's decision to move the US Embassy from Tel Aviv — Israel's most populous, wealthy and vibrant city — to a perpetually conflicted, politically explosive city like Jerusalem had only exacerbated the situation and deepened many people's wounds and fears.

Having to write and report on decisions like Mr Trump's back home in Australia, while personally experiencing the intense security, religious divides, historic anguish, amid scenes of kids running around begging tourists to buy souvenirs that they're trying to sell, was hard to reconcile — it was insightful, confusing, and heartbreaking all at once.

The ancient limestone Western Wall is considered holy in Judaism. ( ABC News: Erwin Renaldi )

Nonetheless, time was ticking, and before setting off to Jordan — my final destination before I'd return to Australia — I also visited some nearby Palestinian cities, including Hebron and Jericho, which are also believed to be the locations of where prophets like Abraham and Moses were buried.

Crossing into Jordan was a much more straightforward experience than the last three days, and while there, we stayed in the capital city Amman but also visited the ancient city of Petra, the place most people know from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

A couple of days later, I was on a flight back to Australia and in no time right back at my office in Melbourne and thinking about what freedom really means to me — that is, simply the ability to roam freely on our own path and the privilege to shape our own destiny. Something that we may take for granted and should be grateful for every day.