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"They call this location a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," states a tour guide, the air from his lungs forming clouds of vapor in the chilly night air. "So many people have gone missing here, many believe there's a gateway to a parallel world." Marius is guiding a visitor on a night walk through frequently labeled as the planet's most ghostly woodland: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of primeval indigenous forest on the fringes of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

Hundreds of Years of Enigma

Accounts of bizarre occurrences here go back a long time – this woodland is named after a local shepherd who is said to have vanished in the distant past, together with two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu gained global recognition in 1968, when a military technician called Emil Barnea captured on film what he reported as a flying saucer suspended above a oval meadow in the middle of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and never came out. But no need to fear," he states, addressing the visitor with a smile. "Our tours have a flawless completion rate."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has drawn meditation experts, shamans, ufologists and supernatural researchers from worldwide, curious to experience the strange energies believed to resonate through the forest.

Modern Threats

Although it is among the planet's leading hotspots for paranormal enthusiasts, the grove is facing danger. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of more than 400,000 people, described as the innovation center of Eastern Europe – are encroaching, and construction companies are advocating for approval to cut down the woods to erect housing complexes.

Barring a limited section home to locally rare oak varieties, this woodland is without conservation status, but Marius hopes that the company he was instrumental in creating – a local conservation effort – will help to change that, persuading the local administrators to recognise the forest's value as a travel hotspot.

Eerie Encounters

When small sticks and seasonal debris snap and crunch beneath their boots, the guide tells various local legends and alleged supernatural events here.

• A well-known account recounts a little girl disappearing during a group gathering, later to rematerialise half a decade later with no memory of what had happened, having not aged a single day, her garments without the smallest trace of dirt.
• Regular stories explain smartphones and photography gear inexplicably shutting down on venturing inside.
• Emotional responses include absolute fear to states of ecstasy.
• Some people state noticing unusual marks on their skin, perceiving disembodied whispers through the forest, or experience hands grabbing them, despite being sure they are alone.

Study Attempts

Despite several of the accounts may be impossible to confirm, numerous elements visibly present that is certainly unusual. Throughout the area are trees whose stems are warped and gnarled into fantastical shapes.

Multiple explanations have been given to explain the deformed trees: strong gales could have shaped the young trees, or naturally high radiation levels in the soil account for their crooked growth.

But scientific investigations have found inconclusive results.

The Notorious Meadow

The guide's tours enable guests to participate in a little scientific inquiry of their own. Upon reaching the clearing in the forest where Barnea captured his well-known UFO pictures, he hands his guest an electromagnetic field detector which measures energy patterns.

"We're venturing into the most active section of the forest," he states. "Discover what's here."

The trees abruptly end as the group enters into a flawless round. The sole vegetation is the short grass beneath the ground; it's clear that it's not maintained, and appears that this unusual opening is organic, not the creation of human hands.

Between Reality and Imagination

Transylvania generally is a location which inspires creativity, where the division is blurred between truth and myth. In rural Romanian communities superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, appearance-altering vampires, who return from burial sites to haunt regional populations.

The novelist's renowned fictional vampire is forever associated with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – an ancient structure located on a rocky outcrop in the mountain range – is actively advertised as "the vampire's home".

But even legend-filled Transylvania – truly, "the land past the woods" – appears tangible and comprehensible compared to this spooky forest, which appear to be, for reasons nuclear, environmental or entirely legendary, a hub for human imaginative power.

"Inside these woods," Marius comments, "the line between truth and fantasy is extremely fine."