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"They call this spot the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," explains a local guide, the air from his lungs producing wisps of condensation in the crisp dusk atmosphere. "So many people have vanished here, it's thought it's a portal to another dimension." The guide is escorting a visitor on a evening stroll through commonly known as the world's most haunted woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a section spanning 640 acres of primeval local woods on the edges of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Hundreds of Years of Enigma

Accounts of strange happenings here go back centuries – this woodland is called after a area shepherd who is said to have vanished in the long ago, along with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu gained worldwide fame in 1968, when an army specialist called Emil Barnea took a picture of what he claimed was a flying saucer floating above a round opening in the heart of the forest.

Countless ventured inside and never came out. But rest assured," he adds, facing the visitor with a smile. "Our guided walks have a 100% return rate."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has brought in yoga practitioners, spiritual healers, UFO researchers and ghost hunters from across the world, curious to experience the unusual forces said to echo through the forest.

Current Risks

Despite being a top global destinations for paranormal enthusiasts, this woodland is facing danger. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of over 400,000 residents, known as the innovation center of Eastern Europe – are encroaching, and developers are pushing for permission to clear the trees to erect housing complexes.

Barring a small area housing locally rare Mediterranean oak trees, the forest is not officially protected, but Marius is confident that the initiative he was instrumental in creating – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will contribute to improving the situation, persuading the local administrators to recognise the forest's value as a travel hotspot.

Eerie Encounters

As twigs and autumn leaves snap and crunch beneath their shoes, the guide describes some of the traditional stories and claimed supernatural events here.

• A well-known account tells of a five-year-old girl vanishing during a group gathering, later to reappear after five years with no recollection of her experience, showing no signs of aging a day, her clothes without the slightest speck of soil.
• Regular stories detail mobile phones and photography gear inexplicably shutting down on entering the woods.
• Feelings include full-blown dread to feelings of joy.
• Certain individuals claim noticing strange rashes on their skin, detecting ghostly voices through the forest, or experience hands grabbing them, even when convinced they're by themselves.

Study Attempts

Although numerous of the stories may be impossible to confirm, there is much clearly observable that is definitely bizarre. Everywhere you look are plants whose trunks are warped and gnarled into unusual forms.

Various suggestions have been proposed to explain the deformed trees: powerful storms could have altered the growth, or typically increased electromagnetic fields in the soil explain their crooked growth.

But research studies have turned up insufficient proof.

The Legendary Opening

The expert's excursions allow visitors to engage in a small-scale research of their own. As we approach the meadow in the forest where Barnea took his renowned UFO photographs, he passes the traveler an EMF meter which detects EMF readings.

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

The trees suddenly stop dead as we emerge into a complete ring. The only greenery is the low vegetation beneath the ground; it's apparent that it's not maintained, and appears that this bizarre meadow is organic, not the work of human hands.

Fact Versus Fiction

This part of Romania is a location which fuels fantasy, where the line is unclear between truth and myth. In rural Romanian communities belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, shapeshifting creatures, who emerge from tombs to frighten local communities.

The novelist's renowned character Dracula is permanently linked with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a medieval building located on a stone formation in the Transylvanian Alps – is actively advertised as "Dracula's Castle".

But despite folklore-rich Transylvania – actually, "the land past the woods" – seems real and understandable versus these eerie woods, which appear to be, for factors radioactive, environmental or entirely legendary, a hub for fantasy projection.

"Inside these woods," Marius says, "the line between reality and imagination is extremely fine."