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"People refer to this place the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," explains a local guide, his exhalation producing wisps of mist in the crisp night air. "Numerous individuals have gone missing here, some say there's a gateway to a different realm." The guide is escorting a traveler on a nocturnal tour through frequently labeled as the world's most haunted grove: Hoia-Baciu, a section spanning 640 acres of old-growth native woodland on the fringes of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Accounts of bizarre occurrences here go back hundreds of years – the forest is titled for a area shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the far-off times, accompanied by his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu came to worldwide fame in 1968, when a military technician known as Emil Barnea captured on film what he described as a UFO suspended above a round opening in the centre of the forest.

Countless ventured inside and never came out. But no need to fear," he adds, turning to the visitor with a smile. "Our guided walks have a flawless completion rate."

In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yogis, shamans, UFO researchers and ghost hunters from across the world, eager to feel the unusual forces reported to reverberate through the forest.

Modern Threats

Despite being a top global pilgrimage sites for paranormal enthusiasts, the grove is under threat. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of over 400,000 residents, known as the tech capital of eastern Europe – are expanding, and real estate firms are campaigning for authorization to cut down the woods to build apartment blocks.

Except for a small area home to locally rare oak varieties, the forest is without conservation status, but the guide is confident that the organization he helped establish – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will assist in altering this, encouraging the local administrators to appreciate the forest's value as a travel hotspot.

Spooky Experiences

While branches and fall foliage split and rustle beneath their footwear, the guide describes various local legends and alleged paranormal happenings here.

• One famous story tells of a five-year-old girl disappearing during a family outing, then to return half a decade later with no memory of what had happened, having not aged a moment, her clothes shy of the smallest trace of soil.
• Regular stories detail cellphones and camera equipment unexpectedly failing on venturing inside.
• Emotional responses include full-blown dread to feelings of joy.
• Various visitors claim noticing bizarre skin irritations on their arms, hearing unseen murmurs through the trees, or experience fingers clutching them, even when convinced they're by themselves.

Research Efforts

Despite several of the tales may be hard to prove, there is much visibly present that is definitely bizarre. Everywhere you look are plants whose stems are bent and twisted into bizarre configurations.

Various suggestions have been suggested to clarify the misshapen plants: that hurricane winds could have shaped the young trees, or naturally high electromagnetic fields in the soil explain their crooked growth.

But formal examinations have turned up insufficient proof.

The Legendary Opening

Marius's walks permit guests to engage in a little scientific inquiry of their own. When nearing the clearing in the trees where Barnea photographed his well-known UFO images, he gives the visitor an ghost-hunting device which measures energy patterns.

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

The plants suddenly stop dead as the group enters into a perfect circle. The only greenery is the short grass beneath the ground; it's apparent that it's naturally occurring, and seems that this bizarre meadow is natural, not the creation of people.

Between Reality and Imagination

This part of Romania is a location which fuels fantasy, where the division is blurred between reality and legend. In rural Romanian communities belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, appearance-altering bloodsuckers, who return from burial sites to haunt nearby villages.

The famous author's renowned fictional vampire is permanently linked with Transylvania, and the historic stronghold – a Saxon monolith perched on a stone formation in the mountain range – is actively advertised as "the count's residence".

But even folklore-rich Transylvania – truly, "the territory after the grove" – feels solid and predictable in contrast to this spooky forest, which give the impression of being, for causes related to radiation, environmental or entirely legendary, a center for fantasy projection.

"Within this forest," Marius says, "the line between reality and imagination is extremely fine."