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"People refer to this place the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," explains a local guide, his exhalation producing puffs of mist in the crisp evening air. "So many individuals have disappeared here, it's thought it's a portal to a parallel world." The guide is leading a guest on a nocturnal tour through commonly known as the planet's most ghostly forest: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of ancient indigenous forest on the edges of the Romanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Accounts of bizarre occurrences here date back centuries – the grove is named after a regional herder who is believed to have disappeared in the long ago, along with two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu came to global recognition in 1968, when a defense worker named Emil Barnea photographed what he claimed was a UFO hovering above a circular clearing in the centre of the forest.

Countless ventured inside and failed to return. But no need to fear," he adds, turning to the traveler with a smile. "Our tours have a perfect safety record."

In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yogis, shamans, extraterrestrial investigators and ghost hunters from worldwide, eager to feel the mysterious powers said to echo through the forest.

Modern Threats

It may be a top global pilgrimage sites for lovers of the paranormal, the grove is facing danger. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of a population exceeding 400,000, described as the Silicon Valley of the region – are advancing, and real estate firms are campaigning for authorization to clear the trees to build apartment blocks.

Aside from a small area housing regionally uncommon Mediterranean oak trees, the forest is not officially protected, but the guide believes that the company he co-founded – a local conservation effort – will contribute to improving the situation, persuading the government officials to recognise the forest's importance as a visitor destination.

Spooky Experiences

As twigs and fall foliage break and crackle beneath their shoes, Marius describes numerous local legends and reported ghostly incidents here.

• A popular tale describes a little girl going missing during a family outing, then to reappear after five years with complete amnesia of her experience, showing no signs of aging a single day, her clothes shy of the slightest speck of soil.
• Frequent accounts detail cellphones and photography gear unexpectedly failing on venturing inside.
• Reactions include full-blown dread to feelings of joy.
• Some people report observing bizarre skin irritations on their bodies, detecting disembodied whispers through the trees, or experience hands grabbing them, although sure they are alone.

Scientific Investigations

Despite several of the tales may be unverifiable, numerous elements before my eyes that is undeniably strange. All around are trees whose bases are curved and contorted into fantastical shapes.

Different theories have been proposed to explain the misshapen plants: strong gales could have altered the growth, or typically increased electromagnetic fields in the soil explain their strange formation.

But scientific investigations have discovered insufficient proof.

The Notorious Meadow

The guide's excursions enable visitors to engage in a modest investigation of their own. Upon reaching the clearing in the woods where Barnea took his well-known UFO images, he passes the traveler an EMF meter which detects electromagnetic fields.

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

The vegetation suddenly stop dead as the group enters into a flawless round. The only greenery is the trimmed turf beneath their shoes; it's apparent that it's naturally occurring, and seems that this bizarre meadow is natural, not the work of landscaping.

Between Reality and Imagination

The broader region is a location which inspires creativity, where the line is unclear between fact and folklore. In rural Romanian communities faith continues in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, form-changing bloodsuckers, who rise from their graves to haunt nearby villages.

The novelist's well-known fictional vampire is permanently linked with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a medieval building perched on a stone formation in the Carpathian Mountains – is actively advertised as "the vampire's home".

But even folklore-rich Transylvania – truly, "the place beyond the forest" – appears real and understandable compared to the haunted grove, which appear to be, for reasons radioactive, climatic or entirely legendary, a hub for fantasy projection.

"Within this forest," Marius says, "the line between fact and fiction is remarkably blurred."