(CNN) – CNN Cairo went to the beach Monday. It was not, alas, a day of rest. We assembled at 2 a.m. at the headquarters of the Egyptian Army's "Morale Guidance" Bureau, from where we were bussed, an hour later, to the northern coast to cover the 2009 Brightstar Exercises.

This year 17,000 troops from Egypt, the United States, Jordan, Pakistan, Germany, Italy, and Kuwait - to name a few - are taking part.

These military exercises have been conducted every two years since 1981.

There is a certain predictability about these affairs. The officers, whatever the country, are all upbeat, talking about cooperation, partnership and mutual respect.

But in the end, these are war games: A rehearsal for something to which other, far less lofty terms come to mind. The officers we interviewed - Americans and Egyptians - speak in glowing adjectives, but dodge questions about what or whom the exercises are preparing for.

I covered Brightstar 10 years ago. Back then it was also all about partnership and cooperation. But in the combat operations room of the USS John F. Kennedy, I had a premonition of what was to come. On a map of clear plastic, written in magic marker over Baghdad were the words: "Target: Saddam."

Ten years later Saddam is gone; U.S. forces are bogged down in Iraq and Afghanistan, while targets have been hit in Yemen, Somalia, and Pakistan.

Voices have been raised in the U.S. – though more loudly and insistently in Israel - calling for military action against Iran, which is accused by some of pursuing a nuclear weapons program.

Back in 1999 it was fairly clear that sooner or later the U.S. and its allies would, somehow or other, bring down Saddam Hussein. After September 11, 2001, regardless of Iraq's non-involvement in those attacks, Saddam's days were running out.

I don't think, at this moment, an attack against Iran (by Israel, by the U.S., or both) is as inevitable as Saddam Hussein's demise. But the possibility is there.

As the sun rose over the desert, I watched three C17 "Globemasters," which had flown straight from Fort Bragg in North Carolina, drop hundreds of paratroopers - mostly Americans along with a few Egyptians and Pakistanis. Later, a pair of American Cobra gunships provided air support as three huge U.S. Navy hovercraft disgorged a dozen armored humvees on a beautiful Mediterranean beach, already "secured" by U.S., Egyptian, Pakistani and Jordanian troops.

It was an impressive display of force and hardware, as well as cooperation and partnership. However it's easy to see from the weapons on display who is the senior "partner."

Sitting in the press bus on my way back to Cairo typing this with my thumbs on a blackberry, I wonder if, as the American and Egyptian officers told us, the Brightstar exercises aren't designed for a specific threat then what is the point?

JERUSALEM - The question of whether Pope Benedict XVI would dare enter the minefield of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict was answered within minutes of him touching down in Tel Aviv.

Pope Benedict XVI walks in Jerusalem with the Western Wall's chief Rabbi at Judaism's holiest prayer site.

He indeed dared, calling for a Palestinian homeland. Not using the political phrase "two-state solution" - he's a pilgrim not a politician - but saying "a homeland of their own, within secure and internationally recognised borders." Welcome news to Palestinian Christians, but they're a tiny minority. Many Palestinians wonder what difference a spiritual leader can make if leaders of the United States and much of the international community haven't managed to accomplish much yet.

A sobering visit to the Yad Vashem Holocaust memorial site, a must for visiting dignitaries to honor the victims of the Holocaust. Some disappointment from the chairman of Yad Vashem that the pontiff did not condemn the Nazis more strongly. Pope Benedict comes to the Holy Land with historical baggage having been in the Hitler Youth movement as was obligatory at the time of him growing up in Nazi Germany. But his first speech included strong unequivocal condemnation of anti-Semitism in any form or any place.

The tone of his first day in Israel has been one of working together for peace. He reminded religious leaders that they all worship the same God and they should focus on what unites and not what divides them.

But on Monday evening he was briskly reminded of the political minefield he is currently visiting. At the interfaith meeting in Jerusalem, Sheikh Tayssir al-Tamimi, chief justice of the Palestinian Islamic court, delivered a spontaneous six-minute speech calling on Muslims and Christians to unite against what he called "the murderous Israelis."

Here was proof Pope Benedict really is following in his predecessor's footsteps: Pope John Paul II listened to a similar speech by the same sheikh during his visit to the holy land nine years ago.

DUBAI, UAE - As a journalist working in Europe and the United States, I have taken freedom of press for granted.

Israeli tennis player Shahar Peer was refused a visa for a tournament in Dubai.

I have also never thought that one of my stories or television packages would or could be censored.

However, I have now realized that elsewhere, journalists don't enjoy these privileges.

While covering the story of Shahar Peer being denied an entry visa to the United Arab Emirate to play at the Dubai Championships, I was surprised to see how little the local media covered it, and how challenging it was to get anyone in the UAE to comment on the news.

Only three out of 10 Emirates newspapers did the story at all, and only one actually had a byline from local reporters. The other two quoted French Press.

When we tried to get a reaction on camera from someone from the government, the tournament or the sponsors, all our requests were denied.

It shows that people here are weary of exposing the controversial decisions taken by the establishment.

What was most surprising to me about the Peer denial and the local coverage of it was that I had always considered the UAE to be a liberal nation which was promoting itself as an economic and cultural force.

For years, it had successfully hosted a number of high profile sporting events and all the athletes I had spoken with had raved about the nation.

However, this development could prompt the Emirates to lose its right to host professional tennis tournaments in the future, and there could be further repercussions if other tours react in a similar fashion.

An unfortunate turn of events which comes to prove once again that sports and politics should not mix.

JERUSALEM – It's been more than three weeks since Israel's operation in Gaza. Images of death and destruction are fresh in Israeli minds ... as are the victory signs from soldiers leaving Gaza.Despite international condemnation at the high number of Palestinian civilain casualties, it was a popular war in Israel. Domestic support was strong throughout, especially among residents within Palestinian militant rocket range and it was perceived in Israel as a success.

Tuesday's Israeli election will determine who should take the credit.

Foreign minister Tzipi Livni has given herself a tough war image, her television advert focuses on the military assault on Gaza and statements about not allowing Hamas to decide Israel's fate.

The biggest winner from the war appears to have been defense minister Ehud Barak. Before the operation he was tipped to win just 8 of the 120 seats in parliament - that briefly doubled in some polls.

But still in the lead, albeit only just, Benjamin Netanyahu and his right-wing Likud Party. He was not in a position of power during the war but has invested in a healthy dose of "I told you so," telling voters he warned Israel in 2005 that pulling Israeli settlers and soldiers out of Gaza would result in Palestinian militant rockets hitting major cities. At the time he was ridiculed by his political rivals: his supporters say he has been proven right.

If the polls are to be believed, Israeli voters are moving to the right in their choice of government. More bellicose statements following a major military operation. A small number of rockets are still falling in southern Israel and that is playing into the hands of Netanyahu and a party even further right-wing than his, Avigdor Lieberman's Yisrael Beitenu.

But nothing is set in stone in these elections: centrist Kadima looks to be a very close second to right-wing Likud, and pollsters estimate up to a fifth of the voting population hasn't even made up their minds yet.

GAZA - Huge, freshly printed posters were beginning to appear on billboards around Gaza City. The banners depicted masked fighters firing heavy machine guns or red-tipped rockets.

The cease-fire had taken effect just three or four days before. These were signs Gaza's fighting factions were still very much in business and keen to portray their campaign of the last three weeks as a victory against Israel.

CNN producer Talal Abu Rahma had been producing reports on the conflict for many years.

For several days now he had got word that the fighting factions he was trying to contact were too busy to meet. They were regrouping and retooling just in case the cease-fire didn't hold.

Then after hours of waiting one morning, Abu Rahma got a call. The northern Gaza commander of the Salaheddin Brigades was ready to meet.

We picked our way through Gaza's backstreets, still strewn with rubble.

Young men in civilian clothes stood on street corners on the lookout. Gazans call these spotters "Weierweis" (pronounced "warweers"), after a popular make of walkie-talkie they use to relay messages up the chain of command.

At the city limits, a contact meets us and leads us into an orange grove, like the many that stretch from here up to the Israeli border.

We're told to turn off cell phones and take out the batteries, an attempt to avoid what they fear could be electronic surveillance by the Israeli military. Under the low-hanging branches, six militants have taken up positions and camouflaged themselves with foliage.

The Salaheddin Brigades are part-funded by Hamas and fight in close coordination with them. In fact they're the military wing of the Popular Resistance Committees (PRC) - a mix of Islamic factions.

Since they were created in 2000, they've gained a reputation as hardcore fighters. They've frequently launched rockets into Israeli neighborhoods. Israel cited the indiscriminate attacks as the reason for its latest military offensive on Gaza. In 2003, the Salaheddin Brigades were blamed for ambushing a U.S. diplomatic convoy, killing three security guards and wounding a diplomat. And in June 2006 the Brigades claimed joint responsibility for burrowing under the Gaza-Israeli border and capturing an Israeli army corporal, Gilad Shalit. He was last heard from in a letter purportedly written in captivity in June 2008.

I'm introduced to Abu Jamal, the northern Gaza commander for the Salaheddin Brigades, who's wearing a red-and-white keffiyeh around his neck and sporting a close-cut beard. He's clutching an American-made M4 assault rifle.

His comrades are armed with AK-47s, two with rocket-propelled grenades.

I counted seven men including the area commander. But they display a certain bravado about their exploits against the Israelis.

The group talks how they fought guerrilla-style against the Israelis using sniper fire and ambushes to try to stall the Israeli advance, and on occasion getting behind Israeli lines to continue firing rockets at southern Israeli towns. They say they survived for three weeks moving quickly and eating little more than a handful of dates and drinking water.

The full facts of the militant campaign are difficult to independently verify. The Israeli Defense Forces say they faced hit-and-run attacks but fewer pitched battles than expected.

Abu Jamal said 17 brigade fighters were killed in the conflict. For its part Hamas says it lost fewer than 50 fighters.

The Israeli Defense Forces puts the number of dead militants as high as "several hundred" and said 10 Israeli soldiers were killed.

Abu Jamal and his comrades say they believe they could have bogged the Israelis down in hand-to-hand urban warfare if they had pushed deeper into the cities. The Israelis say they halted the advance of the ground incursion when they had achieved their main objectives.

Among the Israeli targets was the home of Abu Jamal. He briefly took me there as family members picked through the ruins. The IDF clearly had pinpoint intelligence on where he lived but he figured he was on their hit-list and had left along with his family. Now he was joking that having no home to return to would force him to spend more time with his "resistance" comrades.

When talk turned to the political reaction to the war, Abu Jamal and his fighters were clearly disgusted with what they saw as a lack of "brotherhood" from Arab neighbors but they did say they felt they'd discovered a new champion in an unexpected place: Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. Chavez expelled the Israeli ambassador to Caracas and was forthright in condemning the Israeli offensive.

From that encounter with this cell of the Salaheddin Brigades it was clear their fighting resolve remained intact. For this guerrilla unit, every day it survives is viewed as a victory of sorts in the face of the overwhelming firepower of the Israelis.

It's clear, too, the Salaheddin Brigades view their fight as a religious mission and the recent conflict as the prelude to a bigger fight they believe they will one day wage.

"In the past we threw stones and then had small guns," said Abu Jamal. "Now we will move forward until we finally bring all Muslims to pray in Jerusalem."

On the ground, I found it was so much more complicated. People on both sides told me they want to live in peace. Then why couldn't they?

It seemed so senseless to me, all the killing and destruction, the suffering ...

No matter where I went, the conflict was always simmering in the background.

Speaking to Israelis, I could sense their vulnerability to potential suicide bombings in the market, the coffee shop, the street. I felt their anxiety, when they spoke of a region where many neighbors want their destruction.

I talked with the Palestinian protestors along the Israeli wall separating them from their own farmland and the struggling souvenir sellers in Bethlehem. I could get a sense of their pain from historical injustice.

Both sides argued their case passionately, trying to convince me of the justness of their position.

I could sympathize with both sides' pain.

They all wanted to live in peace. Then why couldn't they?

Both war and peace have failed the Israeli and Palestinian people, but leadership has sometimes worked. One step forward, two back ...

Leaders like Egypt's Anwar Sadat and Israel's Yitzhak Rabin paid the ultimate price, both assassinated by extremists opposed to the compromises made in the name of peace.

The current generation of leaders owes it to the sacrifice of Sadat and Rabin, and to the children dying and suffering in Gaza and Israel, to keep trying to make peace. Gaza is screaming out for brave leadership.

ON THE ISRAEL-GAZA BORDER – Every ground-shaking explosion grips your heart. Standing on the Israeli-Gaza border, I can only watch the black plumes of smoke rising from Gaza city, hoping that no Palestinian civilian was killed in that particular attack.

A missile launched from northern Gaza heads toward an Israeli town on Tuesday.

Or hoping as a Qassam rocket whistles over my head from the opposite direction that Israeli civilians heard the siren and took cover.

Conflict is ugly. Innocent people get killed, and children on their way home from school never make it home. This is by no means the first time this has happened in Israel, in Gaza or in the West Bank.

As a rocket lands too close for comfort, we automatically duck. A local Israeli resident standing near me reacts slower, having experienced this for seven years. When I ask him how one deals with the constant threat of rockets, he tells me, you never get used to it, you just learn to live with it.

I'm still on the Israeli side of the Gaza border. The Israeli government refuses to open the border to allow journalists into Gaza to document the devastation. We are constantly moved from different locations along the border, the Israeli military saying they are trying to protect us from Qassam rockets or needing a closed military zone. They moved us 400 meters back, still about 10 miles within rocket range.

Getting close enough to the border to be able to at least film Israeli airstrikes on the horizon is difficult, getting across the border to film the missiles landing impossible.

The world's international media are relying heavily on local cameramen who live in Gaza and who are risking their lives on a daily basis so the world can see what is happening.

While many Palestinian civilians stay in their homes and militant leaders go underground, they have to jump in the car once they hear another explosion and hope they don't get themselves into the wrong place at the wrong time.

Whether you agree or not with what each side is doing or who broke the truce, the one constant in this region is of a conflict that's easy to inflame, far harder to calm.

Click here for my report on watching attacks from both directions.

JERUSALEM - Think things through: Gaza is burning, and I'm in Beirut.

There's nothing better than being frantically under control. Nothing better than looking at the phone as it rings and reading, "CNN Mothership." 99 times out of 100 it's a conversation about that day's piece, or future pieces - in this case, it's my favorite call. Either Earl or Bruce is calling to say, "Get moving now Perry."

Besides wanting to jump out of your skin and directly into the story - you have to stop and think. Remember your training from all those years past, of security advisers with various accents telling you "plan, plan, plan."

Fine.

I suppose you can take a reporter out of Iraq, but you'll never get the Iraq out of the reporter.

So, first, where are you headed? In this case, we'll need things like a flak jacket, bandages, tourniquet, bug spray and warm clothing. Then the equipment. Cameras, computer – basically all the various cool toys that enable us to get pictures and information out to the world. The apartment quickly starts to look like a tornado aftermath zone.

Then there's the passport question. Any stamp from Israel in your passport will immediately prevent you from going to countries like Syria and Iraq. No good if you're covering the region for an international news organization. So, you better have two, or convince the Israeli authorities to give you an entry stamp on a separate piece of paper (something they are quite good about and willing to do).

If you have two passports: you best hand the right one to the right authorities at the borders. Otherwise, you'll find yourself in a very long conversation with very strange questions. Lots of fun in that scenario – trust me.

The distance from Beirut to Jerusalem is a simple 145 miles. Beirut is directly to the north, but is separated by a border that is locked down as tight as any border in the world. Hezbollah controls the southern part of Lebanon - and Israel has armed forces right up against its northern border: the two view each other as constant, and considerable threats.

They should – after a summer war in 2006 that changed the region forever. At the very least, Lebanon was changed - and is still changing today.

So getting from Beirut to Jerusalem is the equivalent of a crash course in Middle Eastern politics. It's a lot like the TV show, "The Amazing Race" ... only with lots of guns and periods of incredible boredom.

There are two travel options: neither of them appealing. First, you can drive, across Lebanon, through Syria into Jordan ... and then across the bridge into Israel. It's one giant desert. By desert, I mean: there is NOTHING out there. If you're lucky - that may only take you 15 to 16 hours depending on how long you sit at border crossings, explaining to various intelligence officers where you're going and why in the world you would want to go there. But 24 hours ago that option closed down - the border between Jordan and Israel was shut.

In some ways it's a relief because I've done that drive 3 times in the past 2 years - and it's about as much fun as a trip to the dentist. So, with the border shut: it's option number 2.

Fly. Of course, there are no direct flights from Beirut to Jerusalem – so, you fly to Amman, Jordan. From Amman you sit and wait for the flight to Tel Aviv - it's about a 7-hour layover.

As painful as it is: you get a feel for where things are, what the situation is - and how the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. It's because between the flights, the airports and the border crossings ... are cab drivers. They fill in the gaps despite the massive amounts of information coming across your Blackberry - which is great, because the minute you hit the ground, you're off and staring into a camera.

As a story is still breaking, you can often learn more about the situation in the region from them. More important than that, you get far greater information: a genuine "feel" of the situation. In Lebanon I heard that everything was Israel's fault. They started it, the driver said - and things are going to spin totally out of control. In Jordan I heard that it was Egypt's fault. They're the ones that silently gave the nod to Israel to start its campaign in Gaza.

In Israel, in the past 24 hours I've heard two versions: one, everything is fine – this is something "we (Israelis) need to take care of," Hamas is to blame. And the old Middle East adage ... it's mostly "everyone's fault."

So, from Beirut to Jerusalem I can safely say that the region is like a pot of pasta simmering on your stove: you watch it simmer and as the water and foam rises, you can turn down the heat. But have you done it in time?

Or is it going to boil over anyway - and make a complete mess of your kitchen?

It's the first time I've seen a lap of honor before the game has even started - and the crowd loved it.

As the Palestinian football team kissed the ground of their new stadium before their match against Jordan, I looked around and saw grown men with tears in their eyes. Only a Palestinian can understand what it means to have their team play their first ever match on home soil. This was national pride at its purest.

As for the football itself, it started a little late (what doesn't in the Middle East?), and my football expert producer tells me it was a great start for Palestine and a goal from the captain, but petered off towards the 1-1 draw.
 
But the most important part is the fact the 6,000-seat stadium was jam-packed. Every rooftop around the stadium was full for those without tickets, and I sat in-between a passionate football fan with his 2-year-old daughter desperately trying to sleep on his shoulder, and a raucous band with a drum player who didn't stop for 90 minutes.  The atmosphere was incredible.

It's rare to be able to report on something so joyful in the Palestinian territories.  Sport succeeded tonight where politics has often failed.

It starts with a phone call at 8:30 p.m. as we are sitting down to dinner in Gaza City.

The Popular Resistance Committees tells us to be at a certain place in half an hour; they are training. No further details. After a phone call to our Jerusalem bureau chief to weigh up the risks, we all decide it is rare enough an opportunity not to be missed.We grab our equipment and jump into the armored car.

Members of the Popular Resistance Committees perform at a graduation in Gaza City.

Revered as freedom fighters by many here, reviled as terrorists in the West, the PRC, just one of the many Gaza based militant groups, has been involved in countless rocket attacks on Israel and the kidnapping of Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit two years ago.

Now, in a rare public relations display intended to be viewed by Israel and the rest of the world, the PRC will show off its training techniques and a rocket factory to journalists.

The "training ground" is basic: A dead-end road for marching drills, a wall with tires stacked up against it for target practice. Burning tires surround the area, giving off putrid thick black smoke so nightly training is invisible to Israeli eyes in the sky.

The gunmen say they are training for what they see as an imminent Israeli incursion into Gaza.

As a Western female journalist working in Gaza, I rarely have to wear a head scarf, but here I am told to cover my head. The militants cover their faces.

One masked man brings me a chair and a heavily sugared tea so I can watch target and hostage-taking practice in comfort. It is horribly surreal.

One fighter tells me he will never let his son fire a gun. He says he fights only to make a better future for his family. But he's wearing a balaclava, with a rocket-propelled grenade over his shoulder and vowing to destroy any Israeli who enters Gaza. I struggle to marry the two.

The next morning, another phone call.

The same group wants to show us and other news organizations a rocket factory. Precautions this time are more stringent. We drive just outside Gaza City and are transferred into the back of an unmarked van; we are blindfolded, and our phones are taken away.

You know this is standard procedure to protect the location of the factory, but allowing yourself to be blindfolded by a masked gunman in Gaza feels incredibly unnatural. It's hard to stop the worst-case scenario playing out in your head.

My arrival at the location caused some surprise, a woman in a rocket factory is hardly the norm. I am closely watched and discussed. I have covered my head and dressed conservatively, but it's not enough. I am given a jilbab, a long loose-fitting coat, to cover my whole body before I am allowed to enter the "factory." Once the novelty wears off, I am completely ignored.

The "factory" is anything but; it's a tiny room with rockets lining the walls and masked men trying to light a fire from a gas canister to heat the explosives.

First, the lighter doesn't work, then there's a gas leak and the room becomes filled with suffocating gas.

You hear of unexplained explosions in Gaza from time to time, euphemistically called "workplace accidents." That thought is enough to make us squeeze out of the room and wonder whether we've gotten just a little too close to the story.

In a more ventilated area, the preparations begin. I'm struck by the relaxed manner with which these men handle deadly ingredients and warheads. One slip, and the story would be very different, and we probably wouldn't be around to tell it.

As I watch the rockets being made by men who have clearly done this many times before, I glance at the row of rockets made earlier lining the walls. I wonder which will be fired first and whether there will be civilian casualties.

Hamas, which controls Gaza and the militant factions there, including the PRC, are two months into a truce with Israel - not that you'd know it here. They even unveil a longer-range rocket, which could reach some of Israel's larger cities. We're told it is a drop in the ocean of Palestinian surprises should Israel return to Gaza.

There's no doubt the PRC wants Israel to see these pictures. Rocket makers are positioned to give the camera the best angle; the production of deadly weapons is highly choreographed. It's a militant's PR event, an event the Israeli prime minister's spokesman tells us could force an Israeli response if the truce is just a front for militants to rearm and regroup.