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"People refer to this location a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," remarks a tour guide, the air from his lungs producing puffs of mist in the chilly evening air. "Numerous people have disappeared here, some say there's a gateway to another dimension." The guide is guiding a guest on a evening stroll through frequently labeled as the globe's spookiest forest: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of old-growth native woodland on the fringes of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

A Long History of the Unexplained

Stories of unusual events here go back centuries – the grove is named after a area shepherd who is believed to have disappeared in the distant past, accompanied by his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu came to worldwide fame in 1968, when a military technician named Emil Barnea took a picture of what he described as a flying saucer suspended above a circular clearing in the centre of the forest.

Many came in here and failed to return. But don't worry," he continues, facing the traveler with a smile. "Our tours have a perfect safety record."

In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has drawn meditation experts, traditional medicine people, ufologists and paranormal investigators from across the world, eager to feel the unusual forces believed to resonate through the forest.

Current Risks

Although it is one of the world's premier destinations for supernatural fans, this woodland is facing danger. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of more than 400,000 people, called the Silicon Valley of eastern Europe – are expanding, and real estate firms are advocating for permission to remove the forest to build apartment blocks.

Except for a few hectares housing area-specific Mediterranean oak trees, the forest is lacking legal protection, but the guide believes that the company he helped establish – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will contribute to improving the situation, persuading the authorities to acknowledge the forest's importance as a travel hotspot.

Eerie Encounters

When small sticks and seasonal debris snap and crunch beneath their boots, the guide tells some of the local legends and reported paranormal happenings here.

• A well-known account recounts a five-year-old girl vanishing during a family outing, later to reappear five years later with complete amnesia of what had happened, having not aged a day, her clothes without the tiniest bit of dirt.
• More common reports explain cellphones and imaging devices inexplicably shutting down on stepping into the forest.
• Emotional responses vary from full-blown dread to feelings of joy.
• Some people report seeing bizarre skin irritations on their arms, detecting unseen murmurs through the forest, or feel palms pushing them, although sure they are alone.

Study Attempts

Despite several of the stories may be unverifiable, numerous elements clearly observable that is certainly unusual. All around are vegetation whose stems are warped and gnarled into fantastical shapes.

Various suggestions have been proposed to clarify the abnormal growth: that hurricane winds could have altered the growth, or inherently elevated electromagnetic fields in the soil cause their strange formation.

But research studies have discovered insufficient proof.

The Famous Clearing

The guide's tours enable participants to participate in a modest investigation of their own. When nearing the opening in the woods where Barnea took his famous UFO images, he hands his guest an EMF meter which registers electromagnetic fields.

"We're venturing into the most active area of the forest," he says. "Try to detect something."

The plants immediately cease as we emerge into a flawless round. The sole vegetation is the low vegetation beneath our feet; it's obvious that it's naturally occurring, and seems that this bizarre meadow is natural, not the result of people.

Fact Versus Fiction

The broader region is a area which fuels fantasy, where the line is unclear between truth and myth. In rural Romanian communities superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, shapeshifting bloodsuckers, who return from burial sites to haunt regional populations.

The novelist's renowned character Dracula is always connected with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a Saxon monolith situated on a cliff edge in the Carpathian Mountains – is heavily promoted as "Dracula's Castle".

But even legend-filled Transylvania – literally, "the land past the woods" – appears solid and predictable versus the haunted grove, which give the impression of being, for factors nuclear, climatic or entirely legendary, a hub for creative energy.

"Inside these woods," the guide says, "the line between reality and imagination is extremely fine."