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"They call this place a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," states an experienced guide, the air from his lungs producing puffs of vapor in the crisp dusk atmosphere. "Countless visitors have vanished here, it's thought there's a gateway to another dimension." The guide is guiding a visitor on a nocturnal tour through what is often described as the globe's spookiest woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of primeval native woodland on the outskirts of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

A Long History of the Unexplained

Accounts of bizarre occurrences here date back a long time – the forest is named after a regional herder who is believed to have disappeared in the distant past, accompanied by two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu achieved global recognition in 1968, when a military technician known as Emil Barnea captured on film what he reported as a flying saucer suspended above a oval meadow in the centre of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and failed to return. But don't worry," he adds, facing his guest with a smile. "Our excursions have a flawless completion rate."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has brought in yoga practitioners, traditional medicine people, ufologists and ghost hunters from worldwide, eager to feel the mysterious powers reported to reverberate through the forest.

Contemporary Dangers

It may be a top global destinations for paranormal enthusiasts, the forest is facing danger. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of over 400,000 residents, described as the innovation center of the region – are expanding, and real estate firms are pushing for permission to cut down the woods to build apartment blocks.

Aside from a few hectares housing locally rare Mediterranean oak trees, the grove is not officially protected, but the guide believes that the organization he helped establish – a local conservation effort – will help to change that, persuading the authorities to appreciate the forest's value as a visitor destination.

Chilling Events

When small sticks and autumn leaves split and rustle beneath their footwear, the guide tells various folk tales and alleged ghostly incidents here.

• A popular tale recounts a little girl vanishing during a family outing, later to return five years later with complete amnesia of what had happened, having not aged a day, her clothes shy of the slightest speck of dirt.
• Regular stories detail cellphones and photography gear inexplicably shutting down on venturing inside.
• Reactions vary from absolute fear to moments of euphoria.
• Some people state observing strange rashes on their arms, detecting ghostly voices through the woodland, or experience hands grabbing them, although sure they are alone.

Research Efforts

Although numerous of the stories may be impossible to confirm, there is much before my eyes that is definitely bizarre. Throughout the area are vegetation whose stems are bent and twisted into unusual forms.

Multiple explanations have been given to explain the deformed trees: that hurricane winds could have bent the saplings, or inherently elevated radiation levels in the earth cause their crooked growth.

But formal examinations have found inconclusive results.

The Notorious Meadow

The expert's walks allow participants to participate in a small-scale research of their own. Upon reaching the opening in the trees where Barnea took his well-known UFO images, he passes his guest an EMF meter which measures electromagnetic fields.

"We're venturing into the most energetic section of the forest," he states. "See what you can find."

The trees immediately cease as they step into a complete ring. The only greenery is the trimmed turf beneath their shoes; it's clear that it hasn't been mown, and looks that this strange clearing is organic, not the creation of human hands.

Between Reality and Imagination

The broader region is a area which fuels fantasy, where the line is indistinct between truth and myth. In traditional settlements faith continues in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, form-changing bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to terrorise nearby villages.

Bram Stoker's renowned vampire Count Dracula is permanently linked with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a medieval building situated on a rocky outcrop in the mountain range – is keenly marketed as "the count's residence".

But including folklore-rich Transylvania – truly, "the place beyond the forest" – appears real and understandable compared to this spooky forest, which appear to be, for causes nuclear, environmental or simply folkloric, a hub for creative energy.

"In Hoia-Baciu," the guide comments, "the line between reality and imagination is extremely fine."