Dilijan is a forest in a country that mostly does not have one. Armenia is dry, high and largely bare, and then this corner of the Lesser Caucasus stays humid and green — 240 square kilometres cloaked almost entirely in oak, beech and hornbeam. Armenians call it their own Switzerland, and the town at its centre has been a spa resort since Soviet days for its mineral springs. Medieval monasteries stand inside the forest, half swallowed by the trees. Haghartsin, first raised in the 10th century and rebuilt after Seljuk raids, and Goshavank, founded in 1188, are both built of grey basalt that has weathered to almost the colour of the woods around them. Deeper in, above the Polad valley, stands a grove of yew, a slow-growing relict of much older forests and one of the best-preserved stands in the Caucasus. More than 900 kinds of plant grow in it, and brown bear and lynx still live in the deeper forest.
Walking here often means following a dim tunnel of trees where the loudest sounds are birds and your own feet on the path. Morning mist drifts between the hills, and a trail might end at a spring, a monastery courtyard, or the still surface of Lake Parz — Clear Lake — mirroring the forest that rings it. The Aghstev river and its tributaries have cut deep wooded gorges through the park, with villages perched along their rims. The monastery stonework rewards a close look: blind arcades, carved portals and khachkars, the upright cross-stones dense with interlacing patterns. In autumn the slopes burn copper and gold; by early summer, wildflowers crowd the meadows above the treeline. Since 2017 the long-distance Transcaucasian Trail has been threaded through the park, linking the monasteries, the lake and the town of Dilijan at its centre. It is Armenia's walking heart, and easy walking at that.