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"People refer to this place an enigmatic zone of Transylvania," states a local guide, the air from his lungs forming clouds of mist in the cold dusk atmosphere. "Numerous visitors have vanished here, some say it's a portal to a parallel world." This expert is guiding a guest on a evening stroll through what is often described as the globe's spookiest woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a section spanning 640 acres of primeval indigenous forest on the outskirts of the Romanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Reports of unusual events here go back a long time – the forest is called after a regional herder who is said to have vanished in the distant past, along with two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu came to international attention in 1968, when an army specialist known as Emil Barnea captured on film what he described as a flying saucer hovering above a round opening in the heart of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and never came out. But don't worry," he adds, turning to his guest with a smirk. "Our tours have a 100% return rate."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has brought in meditation experts, shamans, extraterrestrial investigators and paranormal investigators from around the globe, eager to feel the mysterious powers said to echo through the forest.

Contemporary Dangers

Despite being among the planet's leading pilgrimage sites for paranormal enthusiasts, the grove is at risk. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of a population exceeding 400,000, described as the Silicon Valley of Eastern Europe – are advancing, and construction companies are advocating for approval to clear the trees to build apartment blocks.

Barring a few hectares housing regionally uncommon specific tree species, this woodland is not officially protected, but the guide hopes that the company he co-founded – a dedicated preservation group – will assist in altering this, motivating the local administrators to appreciate the forest's importance as a tourist attraction.

Spooky Experiences

While branches and seasonal debris break and crackle beneath their boots, Marius describes numerous local legends and alleged ghostly incidents here.

• A well-known account describes a young child going missing during a family picnic, then to return half a decade later with no memory of her experience, showing no signs of aging a day, her attire without the slightest speck of dust.
• More common reports detail smartphones and imaging devices mysteriously turning off on stepping into the forest.
• Feelings vary from complete terror to moments of euphoria.
• Certain individuals report observing unusual marks on their bodies, perceiving unseen murmurs through the trees, or experience fingers clutching them, even when certain nobody is nearby.

Research Efforts

Despite several of the accounts may be impossible to confirm, there is much before my eyes that is definitely bizarre. Everywhere you look are plants whose bases are curved and contorted into fantastical shapes.

Multiple explanations have been proposed to clarify the abnormal growth: strong gales could have shaped the young trees, or inherently elevated electromagnetic fields in the ground account for their strange formation.

But scientific investigations have discovered no satisfactory evidence.

The Legendary Opening

The expert's walks permit guests to participate in a little scientific inquiry of their own. As we approach the opening in the trees where Barnea took his renowned UFO pictures, he gives the traveler an electromagnetic field detector which detects energy patterns.

"We're stepping into the most energetic area of the forest," he states. "Discover what's here."

The vegetation immediately cease as the group enters into a perfect circle. The single plant life is the short grass beneath our feet; it's clear that it's not maintained, and seems that this strange clearing is organic, not the creation of human hands.

Fact Versus Fiction

Transylvania generally is a place which stirs the imagination, where the division is indistinct between truth and myth. In rural Romanian communities superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, appearance-altering bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to haunt nearby villages.

The famous author's well-known vampire Count Dracula is forever associated with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a medieval building perched on a cliff edge in the Transylvanian Alps – is actively advertised as "Dracula's Castle".

But despite folklore-rich Transylvania – actually, "the place beyond the forest" – feels tangible and comprehensible in contrast to these eerie woods, which appear to be, for reasons nuclear, environmental or simply folkloric, a center for fantasy projection.

"In Hoia-Baciu," Marius says, "the division between fact and fiction is extremely fine."