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"They call this spot the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," explains a local guide, his exhalation forming wisps of condensation in the crisp evening air. "Numerous visitors have disappeared here, some say there's a gateway to a parallel world." Marius is leading a visitor on a evening stroll through frequently labeled as the planet's most ghostly woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of ancient indigenous forest on the outskirts of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

Hundreds of Years of Enigma

Reports of strange happenings here extend back a long time – the grove is called after a area shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the long ago, accompanied by two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu achieved international attention in 1968, when an army specialist known as Emil Barnea captured on film what he reported as a flying saucer hovering above a round opening in the centre of the forest.

Countless ventured inside and vanished without trace. But no need to fear," he states, facing the traveler with a smirk. "Our tours have a 100% return rate."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yogis, shamans, ufologists and supernatural researchers from across the world, eager to feel the strange energies believed to resonate through the forest.

Current Risks

Despite being one of the world's premier hotspots for lovers of the paranormal, this woodland is under threat. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of more than 400,000 people, called the tech capital of Eastern Europe – are expanding, and developers are advocating for permission to cut down the woods to build apartment blocks.

Aside from a few hectares housing regionally uncommon Mediterranean oak trees, the forest is lacking legal protection, but the guide believes that the organization he helped establish – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will help to change that, encouraging the government officials to acknowledge the forest's importance as a travel hotspot.

Spooky Experiences

While branches and autumn leaves break and crackle beneath their footwear, Marius tells numerous traditional stories and alleged ghostly incidents here.

• A well-known account describes a little girl disappearing during a family picnic, then to rematerialise five years later with no recollection of the events, having not aged a single day, her clothes lacking the tiniest bit of dust.
• More common reports explain mobile phones and imaging devices inexplicably shutting down on venturing inside.
• Feelings vary from absolute fear to states of ecstasy.
• Some people claim observing unusual marks on their bodies, perceiving ghostly voices through the forest, or sense fingers clutching them, despite being certain nobody is nearby.

Study Attempts

Although numerous of the accounts may be hard to prove, there is much clearly observable that is definitely bizarre. Throughout the area are trees whose bases are curved and contorted into fantastical shapes.

Different theories have been suggested to account for the deformed trees: that hurricane winds could have altered the growth, or naturally high radiation levels in the earth account for their unusual development.

But research studies have found insufficient proof.

The Famous Clearing

The guide's excursions enable visitors to take part in a little scientific inquiry of their own. Upon reaching the clearing in the trees where Barnea photographed his renowned UFO pictures, he hands the visitor an EMF meter which measures energy patterns.

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

The plants abruptly end as we emerge into a perfect circle. The sole vegetation is the low vegetation beneath their shoes; it's apparent that it hasn't been mown, and looks that this bizarre meadow is organic, not the creation of human hands.

The Blurred Line

The broader region is a location which stirs the imagination, where the border is blurred between fact and folklore. In rural Romanian communities belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, form-changing bloodsuckers, who rise from their graves to terrorise local communities.

Bram Stoker's renowned fictional vampire is always connected with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a medieval building located on a stone formation in the Transylvanian Alps – is heavily promoted as "the count's residence".

But despite folklore-rich Transylvania – actually, "the land past the woods" – appears tangible and comprehensible compared to the haunted grove, which seem to be, for causes nuclear, environmental or entirely legendary, a center for fantasy projection.

"Inside these woods," the guide says, "the division between reality and imagination is very thin."