🔗 Share this article

"Locals dub this place an enigmatic zone of Transylvania," remarks a local guide, his exhalation producing clouds of vapor in the crisp evening air. "Countless individuals have gone missing here, it's thought it's an entrance to a parallel world." This expert is guiding a guest on a nocturnal tour through what is often described as the globe's spookiest woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a section spanning 640 acres of ancient native woodland on the outskirts of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

A Long History of the Unexplained

Accounts of bizarre occurrences here extend back a long time – the forest is named after a area shepherd who is believed to have disappeared in the long ago, together with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu gained global recognition in 1968, when an army specialist called Emil Barnea photographed what he described as a flying saucer floating above a round opening in the middle of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and never came out. But rest assured," he adds, turning to the traveler with a smirk. "Our tours have a perfect safety record."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has brought in meditation experts, shamans, UFO researchers and supernatural researchers from around the globe, eager to feel the strange energies believed to resonate through the forest.

Current Risks

Although it is among the planet's leading destinations for paranormal enthusiasts, the forest is facing danger. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of a population exceeding 400,000, described as the innovation center of eastern Europe – are encroaching, and construction companies are pushing for permission to cut down the woods to erect housing complexes.

Except for a limited section containing regionally uncommon specific tree species, the grove is without conservation status, but Marius believes that the organization he was instrumental in creating – a dedicated preservation group – will contribute to improving the situation, persuading the government officials to appreciate the forest's significance as a tourist attraction.

Spooky Experiences

As twigs and autumn leaves split and rustle beneath their shoes, the guide recounts various folk tales and alleged paranormal happenings here.

• A popular tale recounts a little girl disappearing during a family picnic, only to reappear five years later with no memory of what had happened, without aging a day, her garments without the tiniest bit of soil.
• Frequent accounts explain mobile phones and photography gear mysteriously turning off on entering the woods.
• Feelings range from complete terror to feelings of joy.
• Certain individuals state noticing unusual marks on their bodies, perceiving disembodied whispers through the forest, or sense fingers clutching them, although certain nobody is nearby.

Study Attempts

Despite several of the tales may be unverifiable, there are many things before my eyes that is certainly unusual. Throughout the area are plants whose bases are curved and contorted into unusual forms.

Different theories have been suggested to account for the misshapen plants: strong gales could have altered the growth, or naturally high electromagnetic fields in the ground explain their unusual development.

But formal examinations have found no satisfactory evidence.

The Famous Clearing

Marius's tours permit guests to engage in a little scientific inquiry of their own. When nearing the opening in the woods where Barnea photographed his renowned UFO pictures, he gives the traveler an electromagnetic field detector which registers energy patterns.

"We're venturing into the most powerful area of the forest," he comments. "See what you can find."

The plants immediately cease as they step into a perfect circle. The single plant life is the trimmed turf beneath their shoes; it's obvious that it hasn't been mown, and appears that this unusual opening is organic, not the work of human hands.

Fact Versus Fiction

Transylvania generally is a location which stirs the imagination, where the division is indistinct between truth and myth. In rural Romanian communities belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, form-changing bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to haunt nearby villages.

The novelist's renowned vampire Count Dracula is always connected with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a Saxon monolith perched on a cliff edge in the Carpathian Mountains – is actively advertised as "Dracula's Castle".

But even myth-shrouded Transylvania – actually, "the land past the woods" – feels real and understandable versus this spooky forest, which appear to be, for factors related to radiation, atmospheric or entirely legendary, a center for fantasy projection.

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