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"They call this location a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," explains a local guide, his exhalation producing wisps of condensation in the cold evening air. "So many people have disappeared here, it's thought it's a portal to a different realm." The guide is leading a guest on a night walk through what is often described as the planet's most ghostly woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of primeval local woods on the fringes of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Stories of unusual events here date back centuries – the grove is called after a local shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the far-off times, accompanied by two hundred animals. But Hoia-Baciu gained international attention in 1968, when a defense worker known as Emil Barnea took a picture of what he described as a flying saucer floating above a circular clearing in the centre of the forest.

Countless ventured inside and never came out. But no need to fear," he continues, turning to his guest with a grin. "Our tours have a flawless completion rate."

In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yoga practitioners, spiritual healers, UFO researchers and paranormal investigators from worldwide, interested in encountering the unusual forces said to echo through the forest.

Current Risks

Although it is one of the world's premier destinations for paranormal enthusiasts, this woodland is facing danger. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of over 400,000 residents, called the Silicon Valley of Eastern Europe – are expanding, and construction companies are pushing for permission to clear the trees to build apartment blocks.

Aside from a few hectares containing regionally uncommon oak varieties, the grove is lacking legal protection, but Marius believes that the organization he co-founded – a local conservation effort – will contribute to improving the situation, motivating the authorities to recognise the forest's value as a travel hotspot.

Eerie Encounters

When small sticks and autumn leaves snap and crunch beneath their boots, the guide describes various traditional stories and claimed paranormal happenings here.

• A popular tale tells of a young child going missing during a family outing, only to rematerialise half a decade later with no recollection of what had happened, having not aged a moment, her attire without the tiniest bit of dirt.
• Regular stories detail smartphones and imaging devices inexplicably shutting down on entering the woods.
• Emotional responses include full-blown dread to moments of euphoria.
• Certain individuals claim noticing bizarre skin irritations on their arms, detecting unseen murmurs through the woodland, or experience hands grabbing them, even when sure they are alone.

Scientific Investigations

Although numerous of the accounts may be impossible to confirm, there are many things before my eyes that is undeniably strange. Everywhere you look are vegetation whose bases are bent and twisted into bizarre configurations.

Different theories have been given to account for the deformed trees: powerful storms could have bent the saplings, or naturally high electromagnetic fields in the earth cause their crooked growth.

But scientific investigations have turned up no satisfactory evidence.

The Notorious Meadow

The expert's walks allow guests to participate in a modest investigation of their own. Upon reaching the clearing in the trees where Barnea captured his famous UFO photographs, he gives his guest an EMF meter which registers electromagnetic fields.

"We're venturing into the most energetic area of the forest," he comments. "Discover what's here."

The plants suddenly stop dead as we emerge into a perfect circle. The sole vegetation is the low vegetation beneath the ground; it's apparent that it hasn't been mown, and looks that this strange clearing is organic, not the creation of human hands.

Between Reality and Imagination

This part of Romania is a area which fuels fantasy, where the line is blurred between truth and myth. In rural Romanian communities superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, shapeshifting creatures, who rise from their graves to haunt regional populations.

The novelist's famous vampire Count Dracula is always connected with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a Saxon monolith located on a cliff edge in the mountain range – is keenly marketed as "the count's residence".

But despite legend-filled Transylvania – literally, "the territory after the grove" – feels tangible and comprehensible compared to these eerie woods, which give the impression of being, for factors nuclear, environmental or simply folkloric, a hub for human imaginative power.

"In Hoia-Baciu," the guide says, "the line between fact and fiction is remarkably blurred."