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"Locals dub this location the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," states a local guide, his exhalation creating puffs of condensation in the chilly night air. "Numerous visitors have vanished here, some say it's a portal to a different realm." This expert is leading a traveler on a evening stroll through what is often described as the planet's most ghostly forest: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of primeval indigenous forest on the fringes of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

Hundreds of Years of Enigma

Stories of unusual events here extend back a long time – this woodland is called after a area shepherd who is said to have vanished in the far-off times, accompanied by his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu came to international attention in 1968, when an army specialist named Emil Barnea photographed what he reported as a flying saucer suspended above a oval meadow in the centre of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and never came out. But rest assured," he adds, facing his guest with a smile. "Our tours have a 100% return rate."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has brought in yogis, spiritual healers, UFO researchers and ghost hunters from across the world, interested in encountering the unusual forces reported to reverberate through the forest.

Contemporary Dangers

Although it is one of the world's premier hotspots for supernatural fans, the grove is under threat. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of more than 400,000 people, called the Silicon Valley of Eastern Europe – are encroaching, and construction companies are pushing for approval to remove the forest to erect housing complexes.

Barring a few hectares containing regionally uncommon specific tree species, the forest is lacking legal protection, but Marius believes that the company he co-founded – a dedicated preservation group – will assist in altering this, motivating the authorities to appreciate the forest's significance as a tourist attraction.

Eerie Encounters

When small sticks and seasonal debris snap and crunch beneath their footwear, the guide describes some of the local legends and alleged paranormal happenings here.

• A well-known account tells of a little girl vanishing during a family outing, later to rematerialise after five years with complete amnesia of the events, showing no signs of aging a day, her attire shy of the slightest speck of soil.
• Frequent accounts explain cellphones and imaging devices unexpectedly failing on venturing inside.
• Emotional responses range from full-blown dread to states of ecstasy.
• Certain individuals report seeing strange rashes on their bodies, hearing unseen murmurs through the forest, or experience palms pushing them, although convinced they're by themselves.

Research Efforts

While many of the tales may be unverifiable, numerous elements before my eyes that is definitely bizarre. Throughout the area are trees whose trunks are bent and twisted into unusual forms.

Various suggestions have been given to explain the deformed trees: strong gales could have altered the growth, or inherently elevated radiation levels in the ground cause their crooked growth.

But research studies have found insufficient proof.

The Legendary Opening

Marius's walks permit visitors to participate in a modest investigation of their own. As we approach the opening in the forest where Barnea captured his well-known UFO photographs, he hands the visitor an electromagnetic field detector which registers energy patterns.

"We're stepping into the most powerful section of the forest," he comments. "Try to detect something."

The plants abruptly end as we emerge into a complete ring. The single plant life is the low vegetation beneath their shoes; it's clear that it hasn't been mown, and looks that this strange clearing is organic, not the work of landscaping.

The Blurred Line

Transylvania generally is a area which inspires creativity, where the division is indistinct between truth and myth. In countryside villages belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, appearance-altering vampires, who emerge from tombs to frighten nearby villages.

The famous author's renowned character Dracula is forever associated with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a Saxon monolith perched on a rocky outcrop in the Transylvanian Alps – is actively advertised as "the vampire's home".

But including folklore-rich Transylvania – truly, "the land past the woods" – feels tangible and comprehensible versus this spooky forest, which give the impression of being, for reasons radioactive, climatic or entirely legendary, a center for fantasy projection.

"In Hoia-Baciu," Marius says, "the boundary between reality and imagination is remarkably blurred."