🔗 Share this article

"People refer to this location a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," remarks an experienced guide, the air from his lungs forming clouds of mist in the crisp night air. "Countless people have vanished here, it's thought it's an entrance to a different realm." This expert is guiding a traveler on a night walk through commonly known as the globe's spookiest woodland: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of ancient indigenous forest on the fringes of the Romanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Reports of strange happenings here go back hundreds of years – the grove is named after a regional herder who is believed to have disappeared in the far-off times, along with two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu gained worldwide fame in 1968, when a defense worker known as Emil Barnea photographed what he reported as a unidentified flying object floating above a oval meadow in the centre of the forest.

Many came in here and never came out. But no need to fear," he states, turning to the traveler with a smirk. "Our guided walks have a 100% return rate."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yoga practitioners, spiritual healers, UFO researchers and paranormal investigators from worldwide, curious to experience the unusual forces believed to resonate through the forest.

Contemporary Dangers

It may be one of the world's premier destinations for supernatural fans, the grove is at risk. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of more than 400,000 people, described as the innovation center of eastern Europe – are expanding, and real estate firms are pushing for authorization to cut down the woods to build apartment blocks.

Barring a few hectares containing locally rare oak varieties, this woodland is not officially protected, but the guide believes that the initiative he co-founded – a local conservation effort – will help to change that, persuading the government officials to appreciate the forest's value as a visitor destination.

Chilling Events

When small sticks and autumn leaves snap and crunch beneath their footwear, Marius describes some of the traditional stories and claimed supernatural events here.

• A popular tale recounts a little girl going missing during a family outing, only to reappear five years later with complete amnesia of what had happened, having not aged a moment, her garments without the slightest speck of dirt.
• More common reports detail cellphones and photography gear mysteriously turning off on entering the woods.
• Reactions include complete terror to states of ecstasy.
• Various visitors report observing unusual marks on their bodies, detecting disembodied whispers through the trees, or sense hands grabbing them, even when sure they are alone.

Research Efforts

While many of the accounts may be unverifiable, there is much visibly present that is certainly unusual. All around are vegetation whose stems are curved and contorted into unusual forms.

Various suggestions have been proposed to explain the deformed trees: that hurricane winds could have altered the growth, or naturally high radiation levels in the ground explain their strange formation.

But scientific investigations have discovered no satisfactory evidence.

The Notorious Meadow

Marius's excursions allow guests to take part in a modest investigation of their own. Upon reaching the meadow in the woods where Barnea captured his renowned UFO pictures, he gives the traveler an EMF meter which measures EMF readings.

"We're entering the most active part of the forest," he states. "See what you can find."

The vegetation suddenly stop dead as they step into a perfect circle. The sole vegetation is the low vegetation beneath our feet; it's obvious that it hasn't been mown, and appears that this strange clearing is natural, not the work of people.

Fact Versus Fiction

The broader region is a area which fuels fantasy, where the division is unclear between reality and legend. In countryside villages superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, form-changing creatures, who return from burial sites to haunt regional populations.

The novelist's renowned fictional vampire is permanently linked with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a medieval building situated on a stone formation in the Transylvanian Alps – is heavily promoted as "the count's residence".

But despite folklore-rich Transylvania – truly, "the place beyond the forest" – feels real and understandable in contrast to these eerie woods, which seem to be, for factors related to radiation, atmospheric or entirely legendary, a hub for fantasy projection.

"Within this forest," Marius says, "the line between fact and fiction is extremely fine."