🔗 Share this article Exploring this World's Most Haunted Woodland: Contorted Trees, Unidentified Flying Objects and Eerie Tales in Transylvania. "People refer to this spot the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," remarks an experienced guide, his exhalation creating wisps of mist in the cold evening air. "Numerous visitors have disappeared here, many believe there's a gateway to a different realm." The guide is escorting a visitor on a nocturnal tour through frequently labeled as the planet's most ghostly woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a section spanning 640 acres of primeval indigenous forest on the edges of the Romanian city of Cluj-Napoca. Hundreds of Years of Enigma Accounts of strange happenings here extend back centuries – this woodland is called after a area shepherd who is believed to have disappeared in the far-off times, together with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu came to worldwide fame in 1968, when a military technician named Emil Barnea took a picture of what he described as a flying saucer floating above a oval meadow in the centre of the forest. Many came in here and vanished without trace. But no need to fear," he states, addressing his guest with a smile. "Our tours have a 100% return rate." In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yogis, traditional medicine people, ufologists and paranormal investigators from worldwide, eager to feel the mysterious powers said to echo through the forest. Current Risks It may be one of the world's premier hotspots for supernatural fans, the grove is facing danger. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of a population exceeding 400,000, known as the Silicon Valley of eastern Europe – are expanding, and construction companies are advocating for authorization to cut down the woods to construct residential buildings. Barring a few hectares containing area-specific specific tree species, this woodland is lacking legal protection, but Marius hopes that the organization he helped establish – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will assist in altering this, persuading the local administrators to appreciate the forest's significance as a visitor destination. Spooky Experiences As twigs and autumn leaves break and crackle beneath their boots, Marius recounts various folk tales and claimed paranormal happenings here. A popular tale recounts a young child vanishing during a family picnic, then to return after five years with no recollection of the events, without aging a single day, her attire without the slightest speck of soil. Frequent accounts explain mobile phones and photography gear unexpectedly failing on stepping into the forest. Emotional responses include full-blown dread to states of ecstasy. Various visitors report seeing strange rashes on their arms, hearing ghostly voices through the woodland, or experience fingers clutching them, despite being sure they are alone. Study Attempts Although numerous of the stories may be impossible to confirm, there is much before my eyes that is undeniably strange. Throughout the area are plants whose trunks are curved and contorted into bizarre configurations. Different theories have been proposed to account for the deformed trees: that hurricane winds could have shaped the young trees, or naturally high radioactivity in the soil explain their crooked growth. But formal examinations have found no satisfactory evidence. The Notorious Meadow Marius's walks enable visitors to participate in a modest investigation of their own. Upon reaching the clearing in the trees where Barnea photographed his renowned UFO photographs, he hands the visitor an EMF meter which detects EMF readings. "We're venturing into the most active section of the forest," he comments. "Discover what's here." The plants suddenly stop dead as the group enters into a perfect circle. The single plant life is the trimmed turf beneath their shoes; it's clear that it's naturally occurring, and appears that this unusual opening is natural, not the work of people. The Blurred Line The broader region is a location which inspires creativity, where the line is unclear between fact and folklore. In countryside villages superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, appearance-altering vampires, who emerge from tombs to terrorise nearby villages. The famous author's well-known vampire Count Dracula is always connected with Transylvania, and the historic stronghold – a medieval building perched on a rocky outcrop in the Transylvanian Alps – is keenly marketed as "the count's residence". But including myth-shrouded Transylvania – actually, "the land past the woods" – appears solid and predictable compared to this spooky forest, which give the impression of being, for reasons radioactive, climatic or entirely legendary, a hub for human imaginative power. "In Hoia-Baciu," Marius says, "the division between fact and fiction is very thin."