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"Locals dub this place a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," explains a tour guide, his exhalation forming puffs of condensation in the crisp dusk atmosphere. "Numerous people have gone missing here, many believe there's a gateway to another dimension." This expert is escorting a traveler on a nocturnal tour through frequently labeled as the planet's most ghostly forest: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of old-growth native woodland on the edges of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Hundreds of Years of Enigma

Stories of unusual events here extend back hundreds of years – the grove is called after a area shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the long ago, along with his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu gained worldwide fame in 1968, when a defense worker known as Emil Barnea captured on film what he claimed was a UFO suspended above a round opening in the middle of the forest.

Many came in here and failed to return. But rest assured," he adds, turning to his guest with a smirk. "Our guided walks have a perfect safety record."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yogis, traditional medicine people, UFO researchers and paranormal investigators from across the world, eager to feel the unusual forces said to echo through the forest.

Contemporary Dangers

Although it is one of the world's premier pilgrimage sites for paranormal enthusiasts, this woodland is facing danger. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of more than 400,000 people, known as the tech capital of the region – are advancing, and developers are campaigning for permission to cut down the woods to build apartment blocks.

Except for a limited section home to locally rare Mediterranean oak trees, this woodland is without conservation status, but the guide hopes that the company he co-founded – a local conservation effort – will help to change that, persuading the local administrators to acknowledge the forest's value as a visitor destination.

Eerie Encounters

When small sticks and autumn leaves snap and crunch beneath their shoes, Marius tells numerous local legends and reported ghostly incidents here.

• A popular tale recounts a young child vanishing during a family picnic, then to return after five years with complete amnesia of her experience, having not aged a single day, her garments shy of the slightest speck of dirt.
• Regular stories describe smartphones and photography gear inexplicably shutting down on stepping into the forest.
• Feelings include full-blown dread to moments of euphoria.
• Various visitors state observing bizarre skin irritations on their arms, detecting disembodied whispers through the forest, or feel fingers clutching them, although certain nobody is nearby.

Research Efforts

Although numerous of the stories may be impossible to confirm, there are many things visibly present that is undeniably strange. Throughout the area are plants whose stems are curved and contorted into bizarre configurations.

Different theories have been suggested to explain the deformed trees: that hurricane winds could have bent the saplings, or inherently elevated radiation levels in the earth cause their strange formation.

But formal examinations have turned up insufficient proof.

The Notorious Meadow

The guide's walks permit participants to take part in a small-scale research of their own. As we approach the meadow in the woods where Barnea took his renowned UFO photographs, he hands the visitor an ghost-hunting device which registers EMF readings.

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

The vegetation suddenly stop dead as they step into a perfect circle. The only greenery is the short grass beneath their shoes; it's clear that it hasn't been mown, and appears that this strange clearing is wild, not the work of people.

Fact Versus Fiction

This part of Romania is a location which inspires creativity, where the division is indistinct between reality and legend. In countryside villages superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, shapeshifting bloodsuckers, who rise from their graves to haunt local communities.

The famous author's well-known fictional vampire is forever associated with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a Saxon monolith perched on a cliff edge in the mountain range – is keenly marketed as "the count's residence".

But even folklore-rich Transylvania – truly, "the place beyond the forest" – seems solid and predictable in contrast to these eerie woods, which appear to be, for causes related to radiation, atmospheric or purely mythical, a hub for creative energy.

"In Hoia-Baciu," the guide states, "the division between truth and fantasy is very thin."