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"Locals dub this spot an enigmatic zone of Transylvania," explains a local guide, his breath forming puffs of mist in the crisp dusk atmosphere. "Countless people have vanished here, some say it's an entrance to another dimension." Marius is guiding a traveler on a night walk through frequently labeled as the planet's most ghostly woodland: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of primeval indigenous forest on the fringes of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Accounts of unusual events here date back a long time – the grove is named after a regional herder who is said to have vanished in the far-off times, accompanied by his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu achieved worldwide fame in 1968, when a defense worker known as Emil Barnea captured on film what he described as a unidentified flying object hovering above a oval meadow in the centre of the forest.

Countless ventured inside and vanished without trace. But don't worry," he states, turning to his guest with a smirk. "Our excursions have a 100% return rate."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has drawn yogis, shamans, extraterrestrial investigators and supernatural researchers from around the globe, curious to experience the unusual forces believed to resonate through the forest.

Current Risks

Although it is a top global pilgrimage sites for supernatural fans, this woodland is at risk. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of a population exceeding 400,000, described as the Silicon Valley of eastern Europe – are advancing, and real estate firms are pushing for authorization to cut down the woods to build apartment blocks.

Except for a few hectares home to regionally uncommon oak varieties, the forest is not officially protected, but Marius is confident that the company he helped establish – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will contribute to improving the situation, persuading the authorities to appreciate the forest's importance as a tourist attraction.

Eerie Encounters

While branches and autumn leaves snap and crunch beneath their footwear, the guide describes numerous traditional stories and reported ghostly incidents here.

• A well-known account describes a five-year-old girl disappearing during a family outing, later to rematerialise half a decade later with no recollection of the events, without aging a single day, her garments without the smallest trace of dirt.
• Frequent accounts explain mobile phones and photography gear inexplicably shutting down on venturing inside.
• Reactions vary from full-blown dread to feelings of joy.
• Certain individuals state seeing unusual marks on their bodies, hearing unseen murmurs through the woodland, or sense fingers clutching them, even when sure they are alone.

Study Attempts

Despite several of the tales may be hard to prove, there is much visibly present that is undeniably strange. All around are vegetation whose bases are bent and twisted into fantastical shapes.

Various suggestions have been proposed to account for the abnormal growth: strong gales could have altered the growth, or inherently elevated electromagnetic fields in the ground cause their crooked growth.

But formal examinations have found insufficient proof.

The Famous Clearing

The guide's excursions permit guests to engage in a modest investigation of their own. When nearing the opening in the trees where Barnea photographed his well-known UFO pictures, he gives his guest an ghost-hunting device which detects EMF readings.

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

The plants abruptly end as the group enters into a complete ring. The only greenery is the trimmed turf beneath their shoes; it's clear that it's not maintained, and looks that this bizarre meadow is organic, not the creation of people.

The Blurred Line

This part of Romania is a area which stirs the imagination, where the division is indistinct between truth and myth. In countryside villages superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, appearance-altering creatures, who rise from their graves to haunt regional populations.

Bram Stoker's renowned fictional vampire is permanently linked with Transylvania, and the historic stronghold – a medieval building perched on a stone formation in the Carpathian Mountains – is actively advertised as "the count's residence".

But even legend-filled Transylvania – truly, "the territory after the grove" – seems real and understandable compared to the haunted grove, which seem to be, for causes related to radiation, atmospheric or purely mythical, a nexus for creative energy.

"Inside these woods," the guide comments, "the division between truth and fantasy is remarkably blurred."