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"They call this place the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," states a local guide, the air from his lungs forming puffs of mist in the cold dusk atmosphere. "Numerous individuals have vanished here, it's thought there's a gateway to a different realm." The guide is guiding a guest on a evening stroll through what is often described as the globe's spookiest forest: Hoia-Baciu, a section spanning 640 acres of old-growth native woodland on the outskirts of the Romanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Hundreds of Years of Enigma

Reports of unusual events here date back hundreds of years – the forest is titled for a area shepherd who is said to have vanished in the far-off times, along with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu gained worldwide fame in 1968, when a defense worker called Emil Barnea captured on film what he claimed was a UFO hovering above a oval meadow in the heart of the forest.

Many came in here and vanished without trace. But no need to fear," he states, turning to the visitor with a grin. "Our excursions have a perfect safety record."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has drawn yogis, shamans, extraterrestrial investigators and supernatural researchers from across the world, curious to experience the mysterious powers said to echo through the forest.

Modern Threats

Despite being a top global pilgrimage sites for lovers of the paranormal, this woodland is at risk. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of over 400,000 residents, called the Silicon Valley of the region – are expanding, and construction companies are pushing for authorization to remove the forest to build apartment blocks.

Barring a few hectares housing regionally uncommon specific tree species, the grove is not officially protected, but Marius believes that the initiative he helped establish – a local conservation effort – will assist in altering this, motivating the authorities to recognise the forest's value as a tourist attraction.

Chilling Events

While branches and autumn leaves break and crackle beneath their boots, the guide recounts various folk tales and claimed supernatural events here.

• A well-known account describes a young child vanishing during a family picnic, then to reappear half a decade later with complete amnesia of her experience, having not aged a day, her garments without the tiniest bit of dust.
• Frequent accounts explain mobile phones and photography gear unexpectedly failing on entering the woods.
• Feelings vary from absolute fear to feelings of joy.
• Some people state seeing unusual marks on their skin, detecting unseen murmurs through the woodland, or experience hands grabbing them, although certain nobody is nearby.

Research Efforts

While many of the stories may be impossible to confirm, numerous elements before my eyes that is undeniably strange. Everywhere you look are trees whose trunks are curved and contorted into bizarre configurations.

Different theories have been suggested to explain the deformed trees: that hurricane winds could have altered the growth, or inherently elevated radioactivity in the earth cause their crooked growth.

But formal examinations have found no satisfactory evidence.

The Famous Clearing

The guide's tours enable visitors to participate in a little scientific inquiry of their own. Upon reaching the opening in the forest where Barnea captured his well-known UFO images, he gives his guest an electromagnetic field detector which detects electromagnetic fields.

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

The vegetation immediately cease as we emerge into a flawless round. The sole vegetation is the short grass beneath our feet; it's obvious that it's not maintained, and appears that this bizarre meadow is wild, not the work of people.

The Blurred Line

This part of Romania is a area which inspires creativity, where the border is unclear between truth and myth. In traditional settlements belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, appearance-altering bloodsuckers, who return from burial sites to terrorise local communities.

The famous author's renowned fictional vampire is forever associated with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a Saxon monolith perched on a rocky outcrop in the Carpathian Mountains – is heavily promoted as "the vampire's home".

But even folklore-rich Transylvania – truly, "the place beyond the forest" – feels solid and predictable compared to the haunted grove, which seem to be, for factors nuclear, climatic or simply folkloric, a nexus for fantasy projection.

"Inside these woods," Marius says, "the boundary between truth and fantasy is remarkably blurred."