Venturing into this World's Most Haunted Forest: Gnarled Trees, Flying Saucers and Chilling Accounts in Transylvania.
"They call this location a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," states a local guide, his breath forming wisps of mist in the chilly night air. "So many individuals have gone missing here, it's thought it's an entrance to a parallel world." Marius is escorting a traveler on a nocturnal tour through what is often described as the globe's spookiest woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of primeval native woodland on the outskirts of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.
A Long History of the Unexplained
Reports of strange happenings here go back centuries – the grove is called after a regional herder who is said to have vanished in the long ago, along with his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu gained global recognition in 1968, when a military technician called Emil Barnea took a picture of what he described as a flying saucer suspended above a circular clearing in the middle of the forest.
Many came in here and vanished without trace. But no need to fear," he continues, facing the traveler with a grin. "Our excursions have a flawless completion rate."
In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yoga practitioners, shamans, UFO researchers and supernatural researchers from worldwide, curious to experience the strange energies reported to reverberate through the forest.
Current Risks
Although it is a top global destinations for paranormal enthusiasts, the grove is at risk. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of over 400,000 residents, known as the Silicon Valley of Eastern Europe – are encroaching, and construction companies are pushing for authorization to remove the forest to construct residential buildings.
Barring a small area housing locally rare Mediterranean oak trees, the grove is lacking legal protection, but the guide is confident that the initiative he was instrumental in creating – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will help to change that, encouraging the local administrators to appreciate the forest's value as a visitor destination.
Eerie Encounters
As twigs and seasonal debris snap and crunch beneath their boots, the guide describes numerous folk tales and alleged supernatural events here.
- One famous story tells of a five-year-old girl going missing during a family outing, then to rematerialise five years later with complete amnesia of her experience, having not aged a single day, her garments without the slightest speck of dust.
- Frequent accounts detail mobile phones and imaging devices mysteriously turning off on entering the woods.
- Feelings vary from absolute fear to states of ecstasy.
- Certain individuals report observing unusual marks on their skin, perceiving unseen murmurs through the woodland, or sense palms pushing them, despite being sure they are alone.
Study Attempts
Despite several of the accounts may be hard to prove, there is much before my eyes that is undeniably strange. Throughout the area are trees whose trunks are bent and twisted into bizarre configurations.
Various suggestions have been proposed to account for the misshapen plants: powerful storms could have bent the saplings, or typically increased electromagnetic fields in the ground explain their unusual development.
But formal examinations have turned up insufficient proof.
The Legendary Opening
The expert's excursions permit guests to take part in a modest investigation of their own. As we approach the clearing in the forest where Barnea photographed his famous UFO pictures, he hands the traveler an electromagnetic field detector which registers energy patterns.
"We're venturing into the most powerful area of the forest," he comments. "Try to detect something."
The vegetation immediately cease as they step into a flawless round. The sole vegetation is the low vegetation beneath their shoes; it's clear that it's naturally occurring, and seems that this unusual opening is organic, not the creation of human hands.
Fact Versus Fiction
The broader region is a location which inspires creativity, where the border is blurred between truth and myth. In rural Romanian communities faith continues in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, shapeshifting creatures, who rise from their graves to frighten regional populations.
The famous author's renowned character Dracula is permanently linked with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a medieval building located on a stone formation in the mountain range – is keenly marketed as "the count's residence".
But even myth-shrouded Transylvania – truly, "the place beyond the forest" – feels solid and predictable compared to these eerie woods, which seem to be, for reasons related to radiation, environmental or entirely legendary, a nexus for fantasy projection.
"In Hoia-Baciu," the guide states, "the line between fact and fiction is very thin."