Deep within the embrace of Dilijan National Park lies yet another forgotten relic of medieval Armenia—a church nestled in the heart of the woods, veiled in centuries of silence and secrecy. To reach it, one must first travel to the village of Agavnavank, near Dilijan, and then walk three kilometers through a lush forest trail. But the journey is more than worth the effort.
Agavnavank, whose name translates as “Swallow Monastery,” is also known by its spiritual title: Surb Astvatsatsin Anapat, or the Hermitage of the Holy Virgin. It is located roughly 2.5 kilometers northeast of the village, perched on the right bank of a stream bearing the same name. Surrounded by the dense woodlands of the Ahnabad region within the national park, the monastery is often referred to in historical texts as Ahnabad Vank, the Monastery of Ahnabad. A lapidary inscription carved into its walls dates its construction to the 11th–12th centuries.
Despite its weathered state, the church emanates an undeniable grandeur. It is a high, central-domed structure built from finely hewn yellowish pumice stone, featuring elegant façades and intricate carvings that have endured the elements. Particularly remarkable are the delicately sculpted details still visible on the portico and interior.
The architectural design is modest yet harmonious: a domed core flanked by two sacristies. The drum of the dome rises into a conical roof known as a veghar, resting on supporting arches that emerge from pilasters. A few of the original, cleanly cut stone slabs that once covered the roof still remain, though the dome itself is now exposed to the sky. The decorative cornice stones have largely collapsed. On the eastern façade, two triangular niches are carved, and scattered to the south of the church lie the remnants of what were likely monastic cells and auxiliary buildings. On the western walls of the sacristies, one can still read inscriptions etched in the lapidary script characteristic of 12th–13th-century Armenian stonework.
Encircling the monastery are towering yew forests, where some trees are estimated to be between 300 and 400 years old, soaring to heights of 25 meters. Locals believe that one of these ancient trees holds magical powers—it is said to grant wishes. Travelers and villagers alike make a pilgrimage to this tree, tying handkerchiefs to its branches in hope and gratitude, whispering their deepest desires to its rustling leaves.
Legend has it that long ago, in this very region, lived a young man gifted in healing. Using ointments made from forest herbs, he tended to the sick and suffering. One day, the beautiful daughter of a local prince—her name was Nabat—fell gravely ill. No doctor could cure her, and someone finally suggested calling upon the healer from the woods.
The young man prepared a powerful infusion from his gathered herbs and miraculously cured the girl. Overjoyed, the prince offered him a sack of gold in gratitude. But the youth refused the riches—what he truly wished for was the hand of Nabat. The prince agreed.
Yet the princess, proud and cold, rejected him, saying a pauper could never be her equal. Heartbroken, the young man retreated into the forest. There, the memory of Nabat haunted him: he saw her face reflected in the brook, glimpsed it in the morning dew, and felt it in the falling rain. Days passed into months, his longing growing unbearable.
One day, he stood atop a cliff and looked down into the clear waters of the stream below. There, in its mirrored surface, Nabat’s image smiled at him, arms outstretched in silent beckoning. The young man cried out, “Ah, Nabat!”—and leapt into the abyss.
From this tale comes the name Ahnabad, a poetic echo of his final words.
The villagers, moved by his devotion, decided to build a church in his memory. Fittingly, it became a secluded sanctuary, just like the soul of the youth who loved too deeply. Thus, the church was named Surb Astvatsatsin Anapat—the Hermitage of the Holy Virgin—a sacred refuge hidden among whispering woods, bearing witness to a love that transcended even death.