Venturing into this Globe's Spookiest Forest: Twisted Trees, Flying Saucers and Eerie Tales in Romania's Legendary Region.
"People refer to this spot an enigmatic zone of Transylvania," states an experienced guide, the air from his lungs producing wisps of condensation in the chilly dusk atmosphere. "Countless people have disappeared here, it's thought there's a gateway to a parallel world." This expert is leading a traveler on a evening stroll through frequently labeled as the world's most haunted woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of primeval indigenous forest on the fringes of the Romanian city of Cluj-Napoca.
Centuries of Mystery
Reports of unusual events here extend back hundreds of years – this woodland is named after a area shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the far-off times, along with his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu came to global recognition in 1968, when a military technician called Emil Barnea photographed what he reported as a UFO floating above a oval meadow in the heart of the forest.
Many came in here and never came out. But no need to fear," he adds, turning to the visitor with a smirk. "Our tours have a flawless completion rate."
In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yogis, spiritual healers, extraterrestrial investigators and paranormal investigators from worldwide, eager to feel the strange energies reported to reverberate through the forest.
Current Risks
Despite being among the planet's leading destinations for paranormal enthusiasts, this woodland is at risk. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of over 400,000 residents, known as the tech capital of Eastern Europe – are advancing, and developers are advocating for authorization to remove the forest to build apartment blocks.
Aside from a few hectares home to locally rare Mediterranean oak trees, this woodland is not officially protected, but Marius is confident that the company he was instrumental in creating – a local conservation effort – will contribute to improving the situation, encouraging the authorities to appreciate the forest's value as a tourist attraction.
Chilling Events
When small sticks and seasonal debris break and crackle beneath their boots, Marius describes numerous local legends and reported ghostly incidents here.
- One famous story describes a young child going missing during a group gathering, later to return five years later with no recollection of her experience, without aging a day, her clothes lacking the tiniest bit of soil.
- Frequent accounts detail mobile phones and photography gear inexplicably shutting down on entering the woods.
- Reactions vary from complete terror to moments of euphoria.
- Various visitors state observing bizarre skin irritations on their skin, perceiving unseen murmurs through the forest, or experience fingers clutching them, although convinced they're by themselves.
Study Attempts
Despite several of the tales may be unverifiable, numerous elements clearly observable that is certainly unusual. Throughout the area are plants whose bases are curved and contorted into bizarre configurations.
Various suggestions have been suggested to clarify the deformed trees: that hurricane winds could have bent the saplings, or typically increased radiation levels in the soil cause their crooked growth.
But formal examinations have discovered no satisfactory evidence.
The Famous Clearing
Marius's tours enable guests to engage in a modest investigation of their own. As we approach the opening in the woods where Barnea photographed his famous UFO images, he passes the traveler an EMF meter which measures energy patterns.
"We're stepping into the most energetic area of the forest," he says. "Try to detect something."
The vegetation abruptly end as we emerge into a flawless round. The single plant life is the trimmed turf beneath their shoes; it's clear that it hasn't been mown, and looks that this strange clearing is organic, not the creation of people.
Fact Versus Fiction
Transylvania generally is a area which stirs the imagination, where the division is blurred between reality and legend. In rural Romanian communities superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, shapeshifting bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to frighten regional populations.
Bram Stoker's well-known vampire Count Dracula is always connected with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a Saxon monolith located on a stone formation in the mountain range – is heavily promoted as "the count's residence".
But even legend-filled Transylvania – actually, "the territory after the grove" – seems solid and predictable versus these eerie woods, which appear to be, for causes related to radiation, climatic or purely mythical, a nexus for fantasy projection.
"Within this forest," Marius says, "the boundary between fact and fiction is extremely fine."