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"They call this location the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," states a tour guide, his exhalation forming puffs of vapor in the cold night air. "So many visitors have disappeared here, many believe there's a gateway to a different realm." Marius is leading a visitor on a nocturnal tour through commonly known as the globe's spookiest forest: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of old-growth native woodland on the fringes of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Stories of strange happenings here date back a long time – this woodland is named after a local shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the distant past, accompanied by two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu came to international attention in 1968, when a military technician known as Emil Barnea took a picture of what he described as a unidentified flying object floating above a circular clearing in the centre of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and vanished without trace. But rest assured," he adds, facing the traveler with a smirk. "Our tours have a perfect safety record."

In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yogis, spiritual healers, ufologists and supernatural researchers from around the globe, eager to feel the mysterious powers believed to resonate through the forest.

Modern Threats

Although it is one of the world's premier pilgrimage sites for lovers of the paranormal, the grove is at risk. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of over 400,000 residents, known as the tech capital of the region – are expanding, and real estate firms are pushing for permission to cut down the woods to build apartment blocks.

Barring a limited section home to area-specific oak varieties, this woodland is lacking legal protection, but Marius hopes that the company he co-founded – a dedicated preservation group – will help to change that, persuading the government officials to acknowledge the forest's significance as a tourist attraction.

Chilling Events

As twigs and fall foliage snap and crunch beneath their shoes, Marius recounts some of the traditional stories and claimed supernatural events here.

• A well-known account recounts a young child going missing during a family outing, later to rematerialise five years later with complete amnesia of the events, showing no signs of aging a moment, her attire shy of the tiniest bit of dust.
• Regular stories describe mobile phones and camera equipment mysteriously turning off on entering the woods.
• Emotional responses range from complete terror to moments of euphoria.
• Certain individuals state seeing unusual marks on their skin, perceiving disembodied whispers through the woodland, or feel hands grabbing them, even when certain nobody is nearby.

Scientific Investigations

While many of the stories may be unverifiable, there are many things clearly observable that is certainly unusual. Everywhere you look are vegetation whose stems are bent and twisted into bizarre configurations.

Different theories have been suggested to account for the abnormal growth: powerful storms could have bent the saplings, or inherently elevated radioactivity in the ground explain their unusual development.

But scientific investigations have found insufficient proof.

The Famous Clearing

The guide's excursions permit participants to engage in a little scientific inquiry of their own. As we approach the meadow in the trees where Barnea captured his well-known UFO images, he gives his guest an EMF meter which detects electromagnetic fields.

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

The vegetation abruptly end as they step into a flawless round. The single plant life is the short grass beneath the ground; it's obvious that it hasn't been mown, and looks that this strange clearing is organic, not the work of landscaping.

Between Reality and Imagination

The broader region is a area which fuels fantasy, where the border is blurred between reality and legend. In rural Romanian communities superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, shapeshifting vampires, who return from burial sites to frighten regional populations.

The famous author's famous fictional vampire is forever associated with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a Saxon monolith located on a rocky outcrop in the Carpathian Mountains – is keenly marketed as "the count's residence".

But even myth-shrouded Transylvania – truly, "the territory after the grove" – feels real and understandable in contrast to these eerie woods, which give the impression of being, for reasons radioactive, climatic or entirely legendary, a nexus for creative energy.

"In Hoia-Baciu," Marius says, "the boundary between fact and fiction is very thin."