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"People refer to this spot an enigmatic zone of Transylvania," explains an experienced guide, his exhalation producing puffs of condensation in the chilly night air. "So many visitors have vanished here, some say it's an entrance to a parallel world." Marius is guiding a guest on a evening stroll through what is often described as the planet's most ghostly forest: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of ancient native woodland on the edges of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

A Long History of the Unexplained

Stories of strange happenings here extend back hundreds of years – the forest is called after a area shepherd who is believed to have disappeared in the long ago, along with two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu achieved international attention in 1968, when a defense worker known as Emil Barnea captured on film what he reported as a flying saucer floating above a round opening in the middle of the forest.

Many came in here and vanished without trace. But don't worry," he adds, addressing the traveler with a grin. "Our excursions have a flawless completion rate."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has drawn meditation experts, shamans, ufologists and paranormal investigators from across the world, curious to experience the mysterious powers said to echo through the forest.

Contemporary Dangers

Although it is among the planet's leading destinations for supernatural fans, this woodland is facing danger. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of over 400,000 residents, called the Silicon Valley of the region – are expanding, and real estate firms are campaigning for permission to clear the trees to build apartment blocks.

Barring a few hectares home to regionally uncommon Mediterranean oak trees, the grove is lacking legal protection, but Marius is confident that the initiative he co-founded – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will assist in altering this, motivating the local administrators to appreciate the forest's significance as a visitor destination.

Spooky Experiences

As twigs and seasonal debris split and rustle beneath their shoes, Marius recounts various traditional stories and reported ghostly incidents here.

• One famous story describes a little girl going missing during a group gathering, only to return five years later with complete amnesia of her experience, showing no signs of aging a moment, her garments shy of the slightest speck of soil.
• More common reports detail cellphones and camera equipment mysteriously turning off on venturing inside.
• Emotional responses range from absolute fear to moments of euphoria.
• Various visitors state seeing unusual marks on their skin, hearing ghostly voices through the forest, or experience palms pushing them, even when sure they are alone.

Scientific Investigations

Although numerous of the accounts may be hard to prove, there are many things before my eyes that is certainly unusual. Throughout the area are trees whose trunks are curved and contorted into fantastical shapes.

Different theories have been given to account for the misshapen plants: powerful storms could have altered the growth, or naturally high electromagnetic fields in the soil explain their crooked growth.

But research studies have discovered inconclusive results.

The Famous Clearing

Marius's excursions allow visitors to participate in a small-scale research of their own. Upon reaching the meadow in the woods where Barnea photographed his famous UFO pictures, he passes the traveler an EMF meter which detects electromagnetic fields.

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

The plants suddenly stop dead as the group enters into a flawless round. The only greenery is the short grass beneath our feet; it's obvious that it's naturally occurring, and appears that this strange clearing is organic, not the result of human hands.

Between Reality and Imagination

This part of Romania is a area which fuels fantasy, where the border is blurred between reality and legend. In traditional settlements superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, form-changing vampires, who emerge from tombs to haunt nearby villages.

The novelist's well-known fictional vampire is permanently linked with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a Saxon monolith perched on a cliff edge in the Transylvanian Alps – is heavily promoted as "the count's residence".

But despite legend-filled Transylvania – truly, "the place beyond the forest" – appears tangible and comprehensible in contrast to this spooky forest, which give the impression of being, for causes nuclear, environmental or entirely legendary, a center for human imaginative power.

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