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"They call this place an enigmatic zone of Transylvania," explains a local guide, his exhalation forming clouds of vapor in the cold dusk atmosphere. "So many people have vanished here, many believe there's a gateway to a different realm." Marius is leading a traveler on a nocturnal tour through what is often described as the planet's most ghostly woodland: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of primeval native woodland on the outskirts of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Reports of bizarre occurrences here go back centuries – the forest is called after a regional herder who is believed to have disappeared in the distant past, along with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu came to international attention in 1968, when an army specialist called Emil Barnea photographed what he reported as a flying saucer hovering above a circular clearing in the middle of the forest.

Many came in here and vanished without trace. But no need to fear," he states, turning to the traveler with a grin. "Our excursions have a 100% return rate."

In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has drawn yogis, traditional medicine people, extraterrestrial investigators and supernatural researchers from around the globe, curious to experience the unusual forces believed to resonate through the forest.

Contemporary Dangers

It may be among the planet's leading destinations for lovers of the paranormal, the grove is facing danger. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of more than 400,000 people, described as the Silicon Valley of the region – are advancing, and developers are campaigning for approval to clear the trees to construct residential buildings.

Barring a few hectares containing locally rare Mediterranean oak trees, this woodland is lacking legal protection, but Marius is confident that the organization he helped establish – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will assist in altering this, encouraging the local administrators to appreciate the forest's significance as a travel hotspot.

Chilling Events

As twigs and fall foliage split and rustle beneath their footwear, Marius tells some of the traditional stories and alleged supernatural events here.

• A well-known account recounts a little girl disappearing during a group gathering, then to return five years later with no recollection of her experience, having not aged a single day, her garments lacking the tiniest bit of soil.
• Frequent accounts explain smartphones and camera equipment mysteriously turning off on stepping into the forest.
• Reactions vary from absolute fear to feelings of joy.
• Some people claim observing strange rashes on their skin, perceiving unseen murmurs through the forest, or sense palms pushing them, even when sure they are alone.

Scientific Investigations

Although numerous of the tales may be hard to prove, there is much clearly observable that is definitely bizarre. All around are plants whose stems are warped and gnarled into fantastical shapes.

Various suggestions have been suggested to account for the abnormal growth: that hurricane winds could have bent the saplings, or inherently elevated radioactivity in the ground cause their crooked growth.

But scientific investigations have turned up insufficient proof.

The Notorious Meadow

Marius's excursions permit visitors to participate in a little scientific inquiry of their own. Upon reaching the clearing in the trees where Barnea took his well-known UFO images, he passes the traveler an ghost-hunting device which measures energy patterns.

"We're entering the most powerful section of the forest," he says. "See what you can find."

The trees suddenly stop dead as the group enters into a perfect circle. The only greenery is the trimmed turf beneath our feet; it's obvious that it's not maintained, and seems that this strange clearing is natural, not the work of landscaping.

Fact Versus Fiction

The broader region is a area which fuels fantasy, where the border is blurred between fact and folklore. In traditional settlements faith continues in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, shapeshifting bloodsuckers, who rise from their graves to frighten local communities.

The novelist's famous fictional vampire is forever associated with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – an ancient structure perched on a rocky outcrop in the Carpathian Mountains – is keenly marketed as "Dracula's Castle".

But including myth-shrouded Transylvania – actually, "the place beyond the forest" – seems real and understandable versus the haunted grove, which seem to be, for reasons related to radiation, climatic or entirely legendary, a center for fantasy projection.

"Inside these woods," Marius says, "the boundary between truth and fantasy is extremely fine."