Exploring this Globe's Spookiest Woodland: Contorted Trees, Flying Saucers and Spooky Stories in Transylvania.
"They call this place the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," explains a local guide, his breath creating wisps of mist in the crisp night air. "Numerous individuals have vanished here, many believe there's a gateway to a parallel world." The guide is guiding a guest on a nocturnal tour through what is often described as the world's most haunted forest: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of old-growth local woods on the fringes of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.
Centuries of Mystery
Reports of unusual events here go back a long time – this woodland is titled for a area shepherd who is believed to have disappeared in the long ago, together with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu achieved international attention in 1968, when an army specialist named Emil Barnea captured on film what he reported as a flying saucer floating above a oval meadow in the centre of the forest.
Many came in here and vanished without trace. But don't worry," he adds, addressing the visitor with a smirk. "Our guided walks have a 100% return rate."
In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has brought in meditation experts, spiritual healers, UFO researchers and paranormal investigators from around the globe, eager to feel the mysterious powers reported to reverberate through the forest.
Contemporary Dangers
It may be a top global destinations for paranormal enthusiasts, this woodland is under threat. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of more than 400,000 people, described as the Silicon Valley of Eastern Europe – are expanding, and construction companies are campaigning for approval to cut down the woods to erect housing complexes.
Barring a small area housing area-specific oak varieties, this woodland is lacking legal protection, but Marius believes that the organization he was instrumental in creating – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will help to change that, motivating the local administrators to appreciate the forest's significance as a visitor destination.
Spooky Experiences
While branches and autumn leaves snap and crunch beneath their boots, Marius recounts various traditional stories and reported supernatural events here.
- A well-known account describes a five-year-old girl vanishing during a family outing, only to return five years later with complete amnesia of what had happened, showing no signs of aging a single day, her garments shy of the smallest trace of dirt.
- Regular stories detail cellphones and imaging devices mysteriously turning off on stepping into the forest.
- Feelings include absolute fear to states of ecstasy.
- Some people report noticing bizarre skin irritations on their skin, hearing disembodied whispers through the woodland, or sense hands grabbing them, despite being convinced they're by themselves.
Research Efforts
While many of the tales may be unverifiable, there are many things clearly observable that is definitely bizarre. Everywhere you look are vegetation whose stems are bent and twisted into unusual forms.
Multiple explanations have been given to account for the abnormal growth: that hurricane winds could have shaped the young trees, or naturally high radioactivity in the earth cause their crooked growth.
But scientific investigations have found no satisfactory evidence.
The Legendary Opening
Marius's excursions permit visitors to engage in a small-scale research of their own. When nearing the clearing in the trees where Barnea photographed his renowned UFO photographs, he gives the visitor an electromagnetic field detector which detects electromagnetic fields.
"We're venturing into the most active part of the forest," he comments. "See what you can find."
The vegetation suddenly stop dead as the group enters into a complete ring. The sole vegetation is the short grass beneath the ground; it's obvious that it's naturally occurring, and looks that this bizarre meadow is organic, not the work of landscaping.
The Blurred Line
This part of Romania is a area which fuels fantasy, where the line is unclear between truth and myth. In countryside villages belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, appearance-altering bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to frighten regional populations.
The novelist's renowned vampire Count Dracula is always connected with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a Saxon monolith situated on a stone formation in the Carpathian Mountains – is actively advertised as "the count's residence".
But even legend-filled Transylvania – truly, "the land past the woods" – appears real and understandable in contrast to these eerie woods, which give the impression of being, for factors nuclear, environmental or purely mythical, a center for fantasy projection.
"Inside these woods," Marius says, "the boundary between truth and fantasy is extremely fine."