Delving into the Planet's Most Ghostly Grove: Contorted Trees, UFOs and Eerie Tales in Romania's Legendary Region.

"People refer to this place the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," remarks a local guide, his exhalation creating wisps of condensation in the crisp evening air. "Countless people have disappeared here, many believe there's a gateway to another dimension." This expert is escorting a traveler on a nocturnal tour through commonly known as the globe's spookiest forest: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of primeval native woodland on the outskirts of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Stories of bizarre occurrences here date back a long time – the forest is called after a local shepherd who is said to have vanished in the far-off times, along with his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu gained worldwide fame in 1968, when a defense worker named Emil Barnea captured on film what he reported as a UFO suspended above a round opening in the heart of the forest.

Countless ventured inside and failed to return. But don't worry," he adds, facing the traveler with a smile. "Our tours have a 100% return rate."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yoga practitioners, traditional medicine people, ufologists and paranormal investigators from around the globe, interested in encountering the mysterious powers said to echo through the forest.

Contemporary Dangers

It may be among the planet's leading pilgrimage sites for paranormal enthusiasts, this woodland is under threat. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of over 400,000 residents, called the innovation center of Eastern Europe – are encroaching, and construction companies are advocating for approval to cut down the woods to construct residential buildings.

Except for a few hectares containing regionally uncommon oak varieties, the grove is without conservation status, but Marius believes that the organization he was instrumental in creating – a dedicated preservation group – will help to change that, motivating the authorities to recognise the forest's importance as a visitor destination.

Spooky Experiences

When small sticks and autumn leaves split and rustle beneath their boots, Marius describes various folk tales and alleged ghostly incidents here.

• One famous story recounts a five-year-old girl vanishing during a family outing, later to rematerialise half a decade later with no memory of her experience, showing no signs of aging a moment, her garments without the slightest speck of soil.
• Frequent accounts detail smartphones and imaging devices inexplicably shutting down on venturing inside.
• Feelings range from complete terror to moments of euphoria.
• Certain individuals report noticing bizarre skin irritations on their bodies, perceiving disembodied whispers through the trees, or experience fingers clutching them, even when convinced they're by themselves.

Research Efforts

Despite several of the accounts may be hard to prove, there is much clearly observable that is definitely bizarre. Everywhere you look are plants whose trunks are curved and contorted into unusual forms.

Multiple explanations have been given to account for the abnormal growth: powerful storms could have shaped the young trees, or inherently elevated radiation levels in the earth cause their unusual development.

But research studies have discovered insufficient proof.

The Notorious Meadow

The guide's tours enable visitors to take part in a little scientific inquiry of their own. Upon reaching the opening in the forest where Barnea took his renowned UFO images, he hands the visitor an EMF meter which detects electromagnetic fields.

"We're venturing into the most energetic part of the forest," he states. "See what you can find."

The plants suddenly stop dead as they step into a complete ring. The sole vegetation is the trimmed turf beneath our feet; it's obvious that it hasn't been mown, and looks that this unusual opening is organic, not the creation of people.

Between Reality and Imagination

This part of Romania is a location which fuels fantasy, where the border is unclear between truth and myth. In countryside villages superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, shapeshifting bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to frighten nearby villages.

Bram Stoker's well-known fictional vampire is always connected with Transylvania, and the historic stronghold – a medieval building located on a cliff edge in the Transylvanian Alps – is actively advertised as "the count's residence".

But even folklore-rich Transylvania – actually, "the territory after the grove" – feels tangible and comprehensible compared to this spooky forest, which seem to be, for factors radioactive, environmental or simply folkloric, a center for human imaginative power.

"Inside these woods," Marius says, "the boundary between reality and imagination is remarkably blurred."