Haghpat Monastery

Listen first. Somewhere below, out of sight, the Debed River runs through its gorge. Up here the air is cooler and quieter. The paving stones under your feet are uneven, worn smooth in places by centuries of boots and sandals. Grass pushes up between them. Around you the grey-brown walls of basalt hold the damp of the morning, and the mountains of northern Armenia rise on every side, green in summer and white for much of the winter.

You are standing at Haghpat Monastery, in Armenia's Lori Province, a short drive above the mining town of Alaverdi. Notice where it sits. The monastery does not cling to a cliff edge or crown a dramatic peak. It rests on a broad shelf of land, halfway up the slope, with the canyon falling away beyond the village. The builders chose a spot that was sheltered and hard to see from the valley floor. In a region crossed again and again by armies, that choice made sense.

The story begins in the tenth century. Armenia was then ruled in part by the Bagratid dynasty, a royal family that brought a period of relative stability and building. Historical sources link the founding of Haghpat to Queen Khosrovanuysh, wife of King Ashot the Third, often called Ashot the Merciful. The main church was begun in the 970s and completed over the following years. A monastery founded by a queen, in a quiet mountain fold... it was meant to last.

That main church is called Surb Nshan, which means the Holy Sign. Walk around to its eastern side and look up near the top of the gable. You will see a carved relief of two figures in long robes. Between them they hold a small model of a church. These are the queen's sons, the princes Smbat and Kiurike, shown as donors. This kind of donor portrait was a way to say, in stone, who paid for the building and who asked to be remembered in its prayers.

Here is a detail many visitors miss. Look at the princes' heads. They wear different headgear, and the difference was intentional. The carvers were showing rank and identity in a time before name plates and guidebooks. Look also at the model they carry. It is a simplified version of the church in front of you, with its central dome. You are seeing the building and a portrait of the building at the same moment.

Now step inside Surb Nshan. Let your eyes adjust to the dim light. Armenian churches of this period usually have a cross-shaped plan under a central dome, and light falls from narrow windows high in the drum. On the walls, look for traces of painted plaster. Haghpat keeps some of its medieval frescoes, faded but still readable in places, including a large figure of Christ in the apse. Wall painting is less common in Armenian churches than in Georgian ones, so these surviving patches are worth a slow look.

Over the next three centuries Haghpat kept growing. This is why it feels less like a single church and more like a small stone town. Monks and patrons added smaller churches, chapels, a refectory where the community ate together, a book depository, and a tall bell tower. Most of this building happened in the eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The monastery became a centre of learning, where manuscripts were copied and scholars taught. Its rival and companion was Sanahin, another monastery just across the gorge.

Walk into the gavit attached to the main church. A gavit is a large entrance hall, a typical feature of Armenian monasteries. It served as a gathering place, a burial place, and sometimes a classroom. Look up. The roof is held by heavy intersecting stone arches, and in many Armenian gavits the centre opens to the sky through a round oculus, or hole, that once let in light and let out smoke. Under these vaults the temperature drops, and voices carry in a soft, round echo.

One of the most surprising rooms is the old book depository. As the name suggests, it once held the monastery's manuscripts. Later, the room was used for storage, and large clay jars were set down into the floor. Look down when you enter. You may see their round mouths among the stones, like dark circles in the ground. The space shows two lives at once: a library, then a storeroom.

Now look for the khachkars. A khachkar is an Armenian cross-stone, a carved stone slab with a cross at its centre, surrounded by patterns of leaves, knots and rosettes. Haghpat has many of them, standing in the yard and set into walls. The most celebrated is known as the Holy Saviour khachkar, carved in the late thirteenth century. Its surface carries an unusually detailed crucifixion scene with many small figures. Take time with it. The lace-like carving is cut into hard stone.

Haghpat also has a link with a famous poet. In the eighteenth century the troubadour Sayat-Nova, who sang in Armenian, Georgian and Azerbaijani at the royal court in Tbilisi, fell out of favour there. He was sent away and became a monk at Haghpat. His songs are still loved across the South Caucasus. Locals often speak of his years here with affection, and you may hear his name from guides and villagers as you walk.

The monastery's long life was not peaceful. Records tell of attacks and damage over the centuries, and earthquakes in this region have also shaken its walls. Much of what you see has been repaired. Look closely at the stonework and you will notice different shades and sizes of blocks, the marks of many hands across many generations. In 1996, Haghpat was listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, together with nearby Sanahin.

Before you leave, find a quiet corner of the yard. Look out past the walls toward the far side of the Debed gorge. Listen for the bell tower, the wind, a dog in the village, the river far below. Monks once stood where you are standing and saw this same line of mountains. As you walk back down the path, look over your shoulder once more. From a short distance the domes and roofs fold into the hillside, grey stone against green slope, almost hidden... just as the builders intended.