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"They call this place a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," explains an experienced guide, his exhalation producing wisps of vapor in the crisp evening air. "So many people have gone missing here, some say it's a portal to a different realm." This expert is leading a traveler on a nocturnal tour through commonly known as the world's most haunted woodland: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of old-growth local woods on the edges of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

A Long History of the Unexplained

Stories of unusual events here date back hundreds of years – the forest is called after a local shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the far-off times, along with two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu came to global recognition in 1968, when an army specialist called Emil Barnea took a picture of what he reported as a flying saucer floating above a circular clearing in the heart of the forest.

Countless ventured inside and never came out. But don't worry," he states, facing the visitor with a grin. "Our tours have a 100% return rate."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has drawn meditation experts, traditional medicine people, ufologists and ghost hunters from around the globe, curious to experience the strange energies reported to reverberate through the forest.

Contemporary Dangers

Despite being a top global destinations for paranormal enthusiasts, the grove is at risk. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of more than 400,000 people, known as the innovation center of the region – are encroaching, and developers are advocating for permission to cut down the woods to build apartment blocks.

Barring a small area containing regionally uncommon specific tree species, the grove is without conservation status, but the guide hopes that the company he co-founded – a local conservation effort – will help to change that, encouraging the government officials to appreciate the forest's significance as a travel hotspot.

Chilling Events

While branches and seasonal debris snap and crunch beneath their boots, the guide describes numerous local legends and reported ghostly incidents here.

• A well-known account tells of a young child vanishing during a family outing, then to return half a decade later with no memory of the events, without aging a single day, her attire shy of the smallest trace of dirt.
• Regular stories describe cellphones and imaging devices unexpectedly failing on stepping into the forest.
• Reactions range from full-blown dread to feelings of joy.
• Certain individuals claim noticing bizarre skin irritations on their bodies, perceiving unseen murmurs through the forest, or feel fingers clutching them, even when certain nobody is nearby.

Research Efforts

Despite several of the stories may be hard to prove, there is much visibly present that is undeniably strange. Everywhere you look are trees whose trunks are curved and contorted into unusual forms.

Different theories have been given to account for the misshapen plants: strong gales could have altered the growth, or inherently elevated radioactivity in the soil account for their crooked growth.

But scientific investigations have found inconclusive results.

The Legendary Opening

Marius's tours allow participants to engage in a modest investigation of their own. Upon reaching the meadow in the forest where Barnea took his well-known UFO photographs, he passes the traveler an electromagnetic field detector which registers electromagnetic fields.

"We're entering the most energetic area of the forest," he states. "Try to detect something."

The vegetation suddenly stop dead as we emerge into a complete ring. The only greenery is the trimmed turf beneath the ground; it's apparent that it's not maintained, and seems that this bizarre meadow is organic, not the result of landscaping.

Fact Versus Fiction

The broader region is a location which fuels fantasy, where the line is blurred between fact and folklore. In traditional settlements superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, shapeshifting creatures, who return from burial sites to haunt nearby villages.

The novelist's famous fictional vampire is always connected with Transylvania, and the historic stronghold – a medieval building located on a rocky outcrop in the Transylvanian Alps – is keenly marketed as "the vampire's home".

But even legend-filled Transylvania – actually, "the territory after the grove" – seems solid and predictable versus the haunted grove, which appear to be, for reasons nuclear, atmospheric or simply folkloric, a hub for human imaginative power.

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