🔗 Share this article

"Locals dub this location a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," explains an experienced guide, his breath creating wisps of vapor in the crisp evening air. "So many individuals have vanished here, it's thought it's an entrance to another dimension." Marius is leading a traveler on a evening stroll through commonly known as the world's most haunted forest: Hoia-Baciu, a section spanning 640 acres of ancient indigenous forest on the edges of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

A Long History of the Unexplained

Accounts of strange happenings here extend back centuries – the forest is titled for a regional herder who is reportedly went missing in the far-off times, together with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu achieved international attention in 1968, when an army specialist called Emil Barnea took a picture of what he claimed was a flying saucer hovering above a round opening in the heart of the forest.

Many came in here and never came out. But don't worry," he states, facing his guest with a smirk. "Our tours have a 100% return rate."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has brought in meditation experts, spiritual healers, ufologists and supernatural researchers from worldwide, eager to feel the strange energies believed to resonate through the forest.

Modern Threats

Despite being among the planet's leading pilgrimage sites for supernatural fans, the grove is under threat. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of a population exceeding 400,000, called the innovation center of Eastern Europe – are encroaching, and real estate firms are pushing for permission to cut down the woods to build apartment blocks.

Barring a small area containing locally rare oak varieties, the forest is without conservation status, but Marius hopes that the company he was instrumental in creating – a dedicated preservation group – will assist in altering this, motivating the government officials to appreciate the forest's value as a visitor destination.

Eerie Encounters

While branches and seasonal debris break and crackle beneath their boots, Marius tells various traditional stories and alleged paranormal happenings here.

• A well-known account describes a little girl disappearing during a family outing, later to rematerialise five years later with complete amnesia of what had happened, having not aged a single day, her attire without the slightest speck of dust.
• Frequent accounts explain smartphones and imaging devices unexpectedly failing on venturing inside.
• Feelings vary from absolute fear to feelings of joy.
• Various visitors claim noticing unusual marks on their arms, hearing unseen murmurs through the forest, or sense palms pushing them, despite being sure they are alone.

Research Efforts

Despite several of the accounts may be hard to prove, there are many things clearly observable that is definitely bizarre. Everywhere you look are trees whose stems are curved and contorted into unusual forms.

Different theories have been proposed to clarify the deformed trees: strong gales could have bent the saplings, or inherently elevated radiation levels in the soil explain their crooked growth.

But scientific investigations have turned up no satisfactory evidence.

The Legendary Opening

The guide's walks allow visitors to engage in a small-scale research of their own. When nearing the meadow in the woods where Barnea took his well-known UFO images, he gives his guest an ghost-hunting device which detects EMF readings.

"We're venturing into the most energetic part of the forest," he states. "Try to detect something."

The trees abruptly end as we emerge into a complete ring. The sole vegetation is the short grass beneath our feet; it's apparent that it's naturally occurring, and seems that this unusual opening is wild, not the result of human hands.

The Blurred Line

The broader region is a area which fuels fantasy, where the line is unclear between reality and legend. In rural Romanian communities faith continues in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, shapeshifting vampires, who rise from their graves to frighten local communities.

The famous author's famous character Dracula is always connected with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a medieval building perched on a rocky outcrop in the Carpathian Mountains – is actively advertised as "the count's residence".

But including folklore-rich Transylvania – actually, "the land past the woods" – feels solid and predictable in contrast to the haunted grove, which appear to be, for factors radioactive, climatic or simply folkloric, a hub for fantasy projection.

"In Hoia-Baciu," Marius comments, "the line between fact and fiction is remarkably blurred."