Venturing into the Planet's Most Ghostly Woodland: Contorted Trees, Unidentified Flying Objects and Spooky Stories in Romania's Legendary Region.

"Locals dub this spot a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," explains a local guide, his breath forming puffs of vapor in the chilly dusk atmosphere. "Countless visitors have vanished here, it's thought it's a portal to a parallel world." The guide is leading a visitor on a nocturnal tour through commonly known as the planet's most ghostly grove: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of old-growth native woodland on the edges of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

Hundreds of Years of Enigma

Stories of bizarre occurrences here go back a long time – the forest is titled for a area shepherd who is believed to have disappeared in the long ago, accompanied by his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu gained international attention in 1968, when a military technician named Emil Barnea took a picture of what he reported as a UFO hovering above a round opening in the heart of the forest.

Countless ventured inside and never came out. But don't worry," he continues, facing the visitor with a smirk. "Our tours have a flawless completion rate."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has brought in yogis, spiritual healers, ufologists and supernatural researchers from around the globe, interested in encountering the strange energies said to echo through the forest.

Modern Threats

Although it is among the planet's leading pilgrimage sites for supernatural fans, the forest is under threat. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of a population exceeding 400,000, called the Silicon Valley of Eastern Europe – are advancing, and real estate firms are pushing for approval to remove the forest to erect housing complexes.

Barring a small area housing locally rare Mediterranean oak trees, the grove is lacking legal protection, but the guide is confident that the organization he helped establish – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will help to change that, persuading the authorities to appreciate the forest's significance as a travel hotspot.

Spooky Experiences

When small sticks and autumn leaves snap and crunch beneath their shoes, the guide recounts numerous traditional stories and reported paranormal happenings here.

• A popular tale tells of a little girl vanishing during a group gathering, then to reappear five years later with no memory of the events, having not aged a single day, her garments shy of the tiniest bit of soil.
• More common reports detail smartphones and imaging devices mysteriously turning off on venturing inside.
• Feelings vary from absolute fear to moments of euphoria.
• Various visitors state observing strange rashes on their bodies, detecting ghostly voices through the woodland, or experience fingers clutching them, although convinced they're by themselves.

Study Attempts

While many of the tales may be impossible to confirm, there are many things clearly observable that is certainly unusual. Throughout the area are trees whose stems are curved and contorted into unusual forms.

Multiple explanations have been given to account for the misshapen plants: that hurricane winds could have altered the growth, or inherently elevated electromagnetic fields in the ground explain their crooked growth.

But research studies have found inconclusive results.

The Famous Clearing

The expert's walks enable participants to take part in a modest investigation of their own. As we approach the opening in the trees where Barnea photographed his well-known UFO images, he passes the visitor an electromagnetic field detector which measures energy patterns.

"We're entering the most active part of the forest," he says. "Discover what's here."

The plants immediately cease as the group enters into a complete ring. The only greenery is the low vegetation beneath the ground; it's apparent that it's naturally occurring, and seems that this strange clearing is natural, not the result of landscaping.

Fact Versus Fiction

Transylvania generally is a place which stirs the imagination, where the line is indistinct between fact and folklore. In rural Romanian communities superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, form-changing vampires, who emerge from tombs to terrorise nearby villages.

The famous author's well-known fictional vampire is permanently linked with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a Saxon monolith perched on a rocky outcrop in the Carpathian Mountains – is heavily promoted as "the count's residence".

But even myth-shrouded Transylvania – literally, "the place beyond the forest" – feels tangible and comprehensible compared to the haunted grove, which seem to be, for reasons nuclear, environmental or purely mythical, a center for fantasy projection.

"In Hoia-Baciu," the guide states, "the division between fact and fiction is remarkably blurred."