Venturing into this World's Most Haunted Woodland: Gnarled Trees, Flying Saucers and Spooky Stories in Transylvania.
"They call this spot an enigmatic zone of Transylvania," states an experienced guide, his exhalation producing clouds of mist in the cold evening air. "Numerous individuals have vanished here, some say it's a portal to another dimension." Marius is guiding a traveler on a night walk through frequently labeled as the globe's spookiest forest: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of ancient indigenous forest on the fringes of the Romanian city of Cluj-Napoca.
A Long History of the Unexplained
Reports of unusual events here date back centuries – the grove is called after a area shepherd who is believed to have disappeared in the long ago, along with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu came to global recognition in 1968, when an army specialist called Emil Barnea photographed what he claimed was a UFO hovering above a oval meadow in the heart of the forest.
Numerous entered this place and failed to return. But don't worry," he states, addressing his guest with a grin. "Our excursions have a perfect safety record."
In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yoga practitioners, traditional medicine people, UFO researchers and paranormal investigators from worldwide, curious to experience the mysterious powers said to echo through the forest.
Contemporary Dangers
It may be one of the world's premier destinations for supernatural fans, the forest is under threat. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of a population exceeding 400,000, called the Silicon Valley of the region – are advancing, and construction companies are pushing for permission to cut down the woods to erect housing complexes.
Aside from a few hectares containing area-specific Mediterranean oak trees, the forest is without conservation status, but the guide believes that the organization he was instrumental in creating – a dedicated preservation group – will contribute to improving the situation, encouraging the local administrators to appreciate the forest's value as a tourist attraction.
Spooky Experiences
While branches and autumn leaves split and rustle beneath their boots, the guide tells numerous local legends and alleged supernatural events here.
- One famous story tells of a little girl going missing during a family picnic, later to return five years later with complete amnesia of the events, without aging a moment, her attire lacking the slightest speck of soil.
- Regular stories describe mobile phones and photography gear inexplicably shutting down on stepping into the forest.
- Reactions include full-blown dread to moments of euphoria.
- Various visitors claim seeing bizarre skin irritations on their bodies, detecting disembodied whispers through the woodland, or feel hands grabbing them, despite being convinced they're by themselves.
Scientific Investigations
Although numerous of the tales may be hard to prove, numerous elements clearly observable that is definitely bizarre. Everywhere you look are plants whose trunks are curved and contorted into fantastical shapes.
Multiple explanations have been given to account for the abnormal growth: strong gales could have altered the growth, or inherently elevated radiation levels in the earth explain their crooked growth.
But scientific investigations have turned up no satisfactory evidence.
The Notorious Meadow
The guide's tours permit guests to take part in a modest investigation of their own. As we approach the meadow in the trees where Barnea captured his famous UFO photographs, he passes the visitor an ghost-hunting device which registers electromagnetic fields.
"We're stepping into the most powerful part of the forest," he comments. "Try to detect something."
The vegetation suddenly stop dead as they step into a complete ring. The only greenery is the short grass beneath the ground; it's clear that it hasn't been mown, and looks that this unusual opening is natural, not the work of human hands.
The Blurred Line
The broader region is a area which stirs the imagination, where the division is indistinct between reality and legend. In countryside villages belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, form-changing vampires, who return from burial sites to frighten regional populations.
The novelist's famous fictional vampire is always connected with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a Saxon monolith perched on a rocky outcrop in the Carpathian Mountains – is actively advertised as "Dracula's Castle".
But including myth-shrouded Transylvania – actually, "the land past the woods" – appears tangible and comprehensible compared to this spooky forest, which seem to be, for factors radioactive, environmental or entirely legendary, a nexus for creative energy.
"Within this forest," the guide says, "the division between fact and fiction is extremely fine."