🔗 Share this article

"People refer to this location a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," remarks a local guide, the air from his lungs creating puffs of vapor in the chilly evening air. "Countless people have vanished here, many believe it's an entrance to another dimension." This expert is guiding a traveler on a evening stroll through frequently labeled as the world's most haunted forest: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of old-growth native woodland on the fringes of the Romanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Reports of strange happenings here date back centuries – this woodland is called after a area shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the distant past, accompanied by his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu came to global recognition in 1968, when a defense worker known as Emil Barnea photographed what he reported as a flying saucer suspended above a round opening in the centre of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and never came out. But no need to fear," he adds, turning to his guest with a smile. "Our tours have a flawless completion rate."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has attracted meditation experts, shamans, UFO researchers and ghost hunters from around the globe, curious to experience the unusual forces believed to resonate through the forest.

Current Risks

It may be among the planet's leading pilgrimage sites for paranormal enthusiasts, the forest is under threat. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of more than 400,000 people, called the innovation center of Eastern Europe – are advancing, and developers are advocating for permission to cut down the woods to erect housing complexes.

Except for a few hectares housing area-specific Mediterranean oak trees, the grove is without conservation status, but Marius hopes that the company he was instrumental in creating – a dedicated preservation group – will help to change that, encouraging the authorities to recognise the forest's significance as a visitor destination.

Spooky Experiences

While branches and seasonal debris break and crackle beneath their footwear, the guide describes some of the folk tales and claimed ghostly incidents here.

• One famous story recounts a little girl going missing during a group gathering, only to return after five years with complete amnesia of what had happened, showing no signs of aging a single day, her garments lacking the slightest speck of dust.
• Frequent accounts detail mobile phones and imaging devices mysteriously turning off on entering the woods.
• Reactions include complete terror to feelings of joy.
• Various visitors claim seeing unusual marks on their bodies, perceiving unseen murmurs through the woodland, or feel hands grabbing them, despite being sure they are alone.

Research Efforts

Although numerous of the accounts may be hard to prove, numerous elements before my eyes that is certainly unusual. Everywhere you look are vegetation whose stems are curved and contorted into fantastical shapes.

Multiple explanations have been suggested to explain the misshapen plants: powerful storms could have bent the saplings, or inherently elevated radiation levels in the earth account for their crooked growth.

But research studies have discovered insufficient proof.

The Notorious Meadow

Marius's excursions enable participants to take part in a modest investigation of their own. Upon reaching the clearing in the woods where Barnea took his famous UFO photographs, he passes the traveler an EMF meter which registers electromagnetic fields.

"We're stepping into the most energetic part of the forest," he says. "See what you can find."

The vegetation immediately cease as the group enters into a perfect circle. The only greenery is the low vegetation beneath the ground; it's obvious that it hasn't been mown, and seems that this unusual opening is wild, not the work of people.

Fact Versus Fiction

This part of Romania is a location which fuels fantasy, where the border is unclear between fact and folklore. In traditional settlements belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, form-changing bloodsuckers, who rise from their graves to haunt nearby villages.

The novelist's renowned fictional vampire is forever associated with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – an ancient structure situated on a rocky outcrop in the Carpathian Mountains – is actively advertised as "the count's residence".

But even myth-shrouded Transylvania – actually, "the land past the woods" – appears real and understandable in contrast to these eerie woods, which seem to be, for factors related to radiation, environmental or purely mythical, a nexus for human imaginative power.

"In Hoia-Baciu," Marius states, "the boundary between truth and fantasy is remarkably blurred."