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"They call this spot a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," explains an experienced guide, the air from his lungs forming clouds of mist in the chilly dusk atmosphere. "Numerous individuals have vanished here, it's thought it's a portal to another dimension." Marius is escorting a visitor on a nocturnal tour through what is often described as the world's most haunted forest: Hoia-Baciu, a section spanning 640 acres of primeval native woodland on the edges of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Hundreds of Years of Enigma

Accounts of unusual events here date back hundreds of years – this woodland is named after a local shepherd who is said to have vanished in the far-off times, along with two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu achieved international attention in 1968, when a military technician known as Emil Barnea photographed what he claimed was a flying saucer floating above a circular clearing in the heart of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and vanished without trace. But don't worry," he adds, addressing his guest with a smile. "Our excursions have a flawless completion rate."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yoga practitioners, shamans, extraterrestrial investigators and ghost hunters from worldwide, interested in encountering the unusual forces said to echo through the forest.

Modern Threats

Although it is among the planet's leading pilgrimage sites for supernatural fans, the grove is facing danger. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of a population exceeding 400,000, known as the innovation center of Eastern Europe – are expanding, and construction companies are pushing for approval to remove the forest to build apartment blocks.

Aside from a limited section home to locally rare specific tree species, this woodland is without conservation status, but Marius believes that the company he helped establish – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will help to change that, encouraging the authorities to appreciate the forest's significance as a travel hotspot.

Chilling Events

While branches and autumn leaves break and crackle beneath their boots, Marius describes some of the folk tales and claimed ghostly incidents here.

• One famous story tells of a little girl going missing during a family outing, later to return half a decade later with no recollection of her experience, without aging a day, her attire shy of the slightest speck of dust.
• Regular stories describe cellphones and photography gear unexpectedly failing on venturing inside.
• Feelings range from complete terror to moments of euphoria.
• Certain individuals claim seeing bizarre skin irritations on their bodies, perceiving unseen murmurs through the forest, or sense palms pushing them, even when sure they are alone.

Research Efforts

Despite several of the tales may be impossible to confirm, numerous elements visibly present that is undeniably strange. Throughout the area are vegetation whose trunks are bent and twisted into bizarre configurations.

Different theories have been given to explain the deformed trees: that hurricane winds could have altered the growth, or inherently elevated radioactivity in the earth account for their unusual development.

But formal examinations have found insufficient proof.

The Famous Clearing

Marius's walks allow 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 passes the traveler an EMF meter which measures energy patterns.

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

The plants immediately cease as we emerge into a perfect circle. The only greenery is the low vegetation beneath the ground; it's clear that it's not maintained, and seems that this unusual opening is wild, not the result of landscaping.

The Blurred Line

This part of Romania is a location which stirs the imagination, where the division is blurred between fact and folklore. In traditional settlements belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, form-changing bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to haunt local communities.

The novelist's well-known vampire Count Dracula is forever associated with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a medieval building located on a cliff edge in the Carpathian Mountains – is actively advertised as "the count's residence".

But despite myth-shrouded Transylvania – actually, "the land past the woods" – feels real and understandable compared to these eerie woods, which give the impression of being, for reasons nuclear, climatic or simply folkloric, a nexus for creative energy.

"Inside these woods," Marius states, "the division between reality and imagination is extremely fine."