It was 1404 when a group of hermits found refuge in this valley, nestled between Monte Grappa and the hills of Treviso, and decided to stay. To build. To remain.
From that moment on, the Santa Felicita complex has never stopped living: hermitage, convent, centre of production, beating heart of a community. For centuries, the rhythm of prayers has woven itself into the rhythm of the seasons, and these stones have absorbed everything — devotion, labour, silence.

In 1939, the history of Santa Felicita and that of the Reginato family met, and from that meeting something new was born. With grandfather Libero came new life and new energy — and with the generations that followed, the Antica Abbazia opened itself to the world: to guests, to travellers, to anyone longing for an authentic retreat from the chaos of daily life. A story within a story, made of hospitality, passion, and a bond with a space that, generation after generation, has never stopped growing. True to its roots, yet always looking toward the future.

It was the hermits themselves who built it, in 1404, alongside the rest of the complex. Small, essential, built to last. In 1587 it was enlarged, taking on the form that still defines it today.

In the centuries that followed, masses grew ever rarer, upkeep ever more intermittent, silences ever longer. And yet it endured — as only the things with deep roots do.

With the arrival of the Reginato family, this little church found those who knew how to care for it. Around 1955 it was restored, and the family reintroduced the feast of Santa Felicita — a simple gesture, but one full of meaning: giving a place back its soul.

Following in the footsteps and care of grandfather Libero, the Reginato family has chosen to keep caring for it. In 2025, a thorough and loving restoration brought it back to light. Today the church is open to visitors once more — a place suspended in time, where centuries of history are simply waiting to be heard.

Perhaps it was already here in 1520, when an old land register noted it as a small cell on the margins of the complex. Perhaps it is the same building that appears silently on a map from 1865. The history of this small corner of Santa Felicita is made more of intuitions than certainties — and there is something beautiful in that.

What we know is that over time this hermit’s cell became an oven: a fire always burning, the scent of warm bread, the everyday life of the convent continuing within these walls. A humble and necessary place, as the truest places always are.

Found in a state of disrepair, the oven too has been brought back to life through the recent restoration works that have breathed new life into the entire complex. Today it can be visited — and you can let yourself be carried, amid stone and silence, into a time that once seemed lost.