Delving into this Globe's Spookiest Grove: Gnarled Trees, UFOs and Spooky Stories in Romania's Legendary Region.

"People refer to this place the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," explains a local guide, the air from his lungs forming clouds of vapor in the cold dusk atmosphere. "So many individuals have disappeared here, some say it's an entrance to a different realm." Marius is leading a guest on a night walk through what is often described as the globe's spookiest woodland: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of primeval native woodland on the fringes of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.

Hundreds of Years of Enigma

Accounts of bizarre occurrences here go back centuries – this woodland is named after a local shepherd who is said to have vanished in the far-off times, along with his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu gained worldwide fame in 1968, when a military technician known as Emil Barnea photographed what he claimed was a unidentified flying object floating above a round opening in the centre of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and failed to return. But rest assured," he states, facing the visitor with a smirk. "Our guided walks have a 100% return rate."

In the decades since, Hoia-Baciu has drawn yoga practitioners, shamans, extraterrestrial investigators and supernatural researchers from around the globe, curious to experience the mysterious powers believed to resonate through the forest.

Modern Threats

Although it is among the planet's leading destinations for supernatural fans, the grove is at risk. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of more than 400,000 people, known as the tech capital of the region – are expanding, and construction companies are advocating for permission to clear the trees to construct residential buildings.

Barring a limited section containing locally rare Mediterranean oak trees, the forest is without conservation status, but the guide hopes that the company he was instrumental in creating – a dedicated preservation group – will assist in altering this, encouraging the government officials to recognise the forest's significance as a tourist attraction.

Eerie Encounters

As twigs and fall foliage break and crackle beneath their footwear, the guide recounts various local legends and alleged ghostly incidents here.

• One famous story tells of a little girl disappearing during a family outing, then to return after five years with complete amnesia of the events, having not aged a day, her attire shy of the tiniest bit of dirt.
• More common reports explain cellphones and imaging devices mysteriously turning off on entering the woods.
• Reactions vary from complete terror to feelings of joy.
• Some people claim seeing bizarre skin irritations on their arms, perceiving unseen murmurs through the forest, or experience hands grabbing them, although certain nobody is nearby.

Study Attempts

Although numerous of the tales may be impossible to confirm, there is much before my eyes that is certainly unusual. Everywhere you look are plants whose trunks are curved and contorted into bizarre configurations.

Different theories have been given to clarify the abnormal growth: strong gales could have shaped the young trees, or inherently elevated electromagnetic fields in the earth cause their crooked growth.

But formal examinations have turned up inconclusive results.

The Notorious Meadow

The guide's walks enable participants to take part in a modest investigation of their own. As we approach the clearing in the woods where Barnea photographed his renowned UFO pictures, he gives the visitor an EMF meter which detects energy patterns.

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

The trees suddenly stop dead as we emerge into a perfect circle. The sole vegetation is the trimmed turf beneath our feet; it's clear that it hasn't been mown, and seems that this strange clearing is organic, not the result of landscaping.

Fact Versus Fiction

Transylvania generally is a area which stirs the imagination, where the border is blurred between reality and legend. In countryside villages belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, form-changing bloodsuckers, who return from burial sites to frighten nearby villages.

The famous author's famous fictional vampire is permanently linked with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – an ancient structure perched on a cliff edge in the mountain range – is heavily promoted as "the count's residence".

But including myth-shrouded Transylvania – actually, "the land past the woods" – seems tangible and comprehensible compared to these eerie woods, which give the impression of being, for factors nuclear, climatic or entirely legendary, a center for fantasy projection.

"Inside these woods," Marius states, "the boundary between reality and imagination is remarkably blurred."