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"They call this place the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," states a tour guide, his exhalation producing wisps of vapor in the cold dusk atmosphere. "Countless visitors have disappeared here, many believe there's a gateway to another dimension." The guide is leading a traveler on a nocturnal tour through commonly known as the world's most haunted woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of primeval indigenous forest on the edges of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Hundreds of Years of Enigma

Stories of strange happenings here go back hundreds of years – the grove is called after a area shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the distant past, together with two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu came to international attention in 1968, when a military technician called Emil Barnea took a picture of what he reported as a unidentified flying object floating above a round opening in the heart of the forest.

Many came in here and never came out. But don't worry," he states, turning to the visitor with a grin. "Our excursions have a 100% return rate."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has brought in yogis, shamans, ufologists and ghost hunters from across the world, eager to feel the mysterious powers said to echo through the forest.

Current Risks

Although it is a top global hotspots for lovers of the paranormal, the forest is at risk. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of more than 400,000 people, called the Silicon Valley of eastern Europe – are advancing, and construction companies are advocating for approval to cut down the woods to build apartment blocks.

Aside from a limited section housing locally rare specific tree species, this woodland is not officially protected, but the guide is confident that the company he helped establish – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will help to change that, persuading the government officials to recognise the forest's value as a travel hotspot.

Chilling Events

As twigs and autumn leaves split and rustle beneath their footwear, Marius tells various local legends and reported supernatural events here.

• A popular tale describes a little girl going missing during a group gathering, only to rematerialise half a decade later with no recollection of her experience, having not aged a day, her attire lacking the tiniest bit of dirt.
• Regular stories detail smartphones and camera equipment inexplicably shutting down on stepping into the forest.
• Reactions vary from complete terror to moments of euphoria.
• Some people report seeing unusual marks on their skin, perceiving disembodied whispers through the forest, or experience fingers clutching them, despite being convinced they're by themselves.

Research Efforts

While many of the stories may be impossible to confirm, there are many things before my eyes that is certainly unusual. Everywhere you look are trees whose bases are warped and gnarled into bizarre configurations.

Multiple explanations have been proposed to explain the deformed trees: strong gales could have altered the growth, or inherently elevated radioactivity in the soil cause their strange formation.

But research studies have discovered insufficient proof.

The Famous Clearing

The expert's excursions permit visitors to take part in a modest investigation of their own. When nearing the meadow in the woods where Barnea captured his renowned UFO pictures, he passes the visitor an electromagnetic field detector which measures electromagnetic fields.

"We're venturing into the most energetic area of the forest," he comments. "Discover what's here."

The vegetation abruptly end as the group enters into a flawless round. The sole vegetation is the short grass beneath their shoes; it's clear that it's naturally occurring, and seems that this strange clearing is organic, not the creation of people.

Fact Versus Fiction

This part of Romania is a area which inspires creativity, where the line is indistinct between reality and legend. In traditional settlements belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, appearance-altering bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to frighten regional populations.

Bram Stoker's famous vampire Count Dracula is forever associated with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a Saxon monolith located on a stone formation in the mountain range – is keenly marketed as "the count's residence".

But including legend-filled Transylvania – actually, "the territory after the grove" – feels tangible and comprehensible compared to these eerie woods, which seem to be, for reasons related to radiation, atmospheric or simply folkloric, a center for creative energy.

"Within this forest," the guide comments, "the boundary between reality and imagination is remarkably blurred."