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"They call this location the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," states a tour guide, the air from his lungs producing clouds of mist in the chilly night air. "Countless individuals have vanished here, some say there's a gateway to another dimension." Marius is escorting a guest on a nocturnal tour through commonly known as the planet's most ghostly forest: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of primeval native woodland on the outskirts of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Stories of unusual events here extend back a long time – the forest is named after a local shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the long ago, together with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu achieved worldwide fame in 1968, when a military technician known as Emil Barnea took a picture of what he claimed was a UFO suspended above a round opening in the centre of the forest.

Countless ventured inside and never came out. But rest assured," he continues, addressing the traveler with a smirk. "Our excursions have a perfect safety record."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yoga practitioners, shamans, ufologists and paranormal investigators from across the world, curious to experience the strange energies believed to resonate through the forest.

Contemporary Dangers

Although it is one of the world's premier hotspots for lovers of the paranormal, this woodland is at risk. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of over 400,000 residents, called the tech capital of the region – are encroaching, and construction companies are campaigning for authorization to clear the trees to erect housing complexes.

Aside from a few hectares housing area-specific oak varieties, this woodland is not officially protected, but Marius is confident that the initiative he co-founded – a local conservation effort – will assist in altering this, persuading the local administrators to recognise the forest's importance as a travel hotspot.

Eerie Encounters

When small sticks and seasonal debris snap and crunch beneath their boots, the guide recounts some of the folk tales and reported paranormal happenings here.

• A well-known account recounts a little girl disappearing during a family outing, only to return half a decade later with no memory of the events, without aging a single day, her garments lacking the slightest speck of dirt.
• More common reports detail cellphones and photography gear inexplicably shutting down on stepping into the forest.
• Emotional responses include absolute fear to states of ecstasy.
• Certain individuals report observing unusual marks on their bodies, perceiving unseen murmurs through the forest, or sense fingers clutching them, even when certain nobody is nearby.

Research Efforts

While many of the stories may be hard to prove, there is much clearly observable that is definitely bizarre. Throughout the area are trees whose bases are bent and twisted into fantastical shapes.

Various suggestions have been given to clarify the misshapen plants: that hurricane winds could have altered the growth, or inherently elevated electromagnetic fields in the soil account for their strange formation.

But research studies have turned up no satisfactory evidence.

The Famous Clearing

The guide's tours enable guests to participate in a little scientific inquiry of their own. As we approach the meadow in the woods where Barnea photographed his well-known UFO pictures, he passes the visitor an ghost-hunting device which measures EMF readings.

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

The vegetation immediately cease as the group enters into a complete ring. The only greenery is the low vegetation beneath our feet; it's clear that it's not maintained, and appears that this bizarre meadow is wild, not the creation of landscaping.

The Blurred Line

Transylvania generally is a location which stirs the imagination, where the border is indistinct between truth and myth. In countryside villages belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, shapeshifting bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to haunt regional populations.

The novelist's well-known character Dracula is permanently linked with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – an ancient structure perched on a stone formation in the mountain range – is actively advertised as "the vampire's home".

But despite folklore-rich Transylvania – literally, "the territory after the grove" – feels solid and predictable compared to the haunted grove, which give the impression of being, for causes nuclear, climatic or entirely legendary, a hub for fantasy projection.

"Inside these woods," Marius says, "the boundary between fact and fiction is remarkably blurred."