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"Locals dub this location a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," remarks an experienced guide, the air from his lungs producing puffs of condensation in the chilly dusk atmosphere. "Numerous individuals have gone missing here, some say there's a gateway to another dimension." This expert is leading a traveler on a evening stroll through what is often described as the planet's most ghostly woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of primeval native woodland on the fringes of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Reports of bizarre occurrences here go back a long time – this woodland is titled for a area shepherd who is said to have vanished in the distant past, accompanied by two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu gained global recognition in 1968, when a defense worker named Emil Barnea took a picture of what he reported as a flying saucer suspended above a oval meadow in the centre of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and failed to return. But no need to fear," he states, facing the visitor with a smile. "Our excursions have a perfect safety record."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has attracted meditation experts, spiritual healers, extraterrestrial investigators and ghost hunters from across the world, interested in encountering the unusual forces said to echo through the forest.

Current Risks

It may be among the planet's leading destinations for supernatural fans, the grove is facing danger. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of more than 400,000 people, known as the tech capital of eastern Europe – are encroaching, and real estate firms are campaigning for permission to remove the forest to erect housing complexes.

Barring a few hectares housing area-specific oak varieties, this woodland is not officially protected, but the guide is confident that the company he co-founded – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will contribute to improving the situation, motivating the local administrators to acknowledge the forest's value as a travel hotspot.

Spooky Experiences

As twigs and autumn leaves snap and crunch beneath their boots, Marius recounts some of the traditional stories and claimed paranormal happenings here.

• A popular tale tells of a little girl going missing during a family outing, later to rematerialise half a decade later with complete amnesia of the events, without aging a day, her attire without the tiniest bit of dust.
• Regular stories describe mobile phones and camera equipment unexpectedly failing on venturing inside.
• Feelings vary from complete terror to feelings of joy.
• Some people state observing bizarre skin irritations on their arms, detecting unseen murmurs through the forest, or experience hands grabbing them, despite being certain nobody is nearby.

Research Efforts

While many of the stories may be impossible to confirm, there is much before my eyes that is certainly unusual. Throughout the area are trees whose trunks are curved and contorted into fantastical shapes.

Various suggestions have been given to account for the deformed trees: that hurricane winds could have bent the saplings, or inherently elevated electromagnetic fields in the soil cause their unusual development.

But formal examinations have turned up insufficient proof.

The Notorious Meadow

The guide's walks allow guests to take part in a modest investigation of their own. Upon reaching the meadow in the woods where Barnea captured his renowned UFO pictures, he gives the visitor an ghost-hunting device which detects energy patterns.

"We're entering the most active section of the forest," he states. "See what you can find."

The plants immediately cease as they step into a flawless round. The single plant life is the low vegetation beneath their shoes; it's apparent that it's naturally occurring, and looks that this strange clearing is natural, not the work of people.

The Blurred Line

The broader region is a area which stirs the imagination, where the border is unclear between fact and folklore. In traditional settlements superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, shapeshifting vampires, who return from burial sites to haunt local communities.

Bram Stoker's renowned fictional vampire is always connected with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a medieval building located on a cliff edge in the Transylvanian Alps – is actively advertised as "the vampire's home".

But even folklore-rich Transylvania – literally, "the territory after the grove" – seems tangible and comprehensible versus these eerie woods, which give the impression of being, for causes nuclear, climatic or simply folkloric, a hub for fantasy projection.

"Inside these woods," the guide comments, "the line between fact and fiction is extremely fine."