Exploring this World's Most Haunted Forest: Contorted Trees, UFOs and Spooky Stories in Transylvania.
"They call this location an enigmatic zone of Transylvania," remarks an experienced guide, the air from his lungs forming wisps of mist in the crisp evening air. "So many visitors have vanished here, many believe it's an entrance to another dimension." Marius is leading a guest on a evening stroll through what is often described as the world's most haunted forest: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of old-growth indigenous forest on the outskirts of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.
A Long History of the Unexplained
Stories of bizarre occurrences here go back hundreds of years – the forest is called after a regional herder who is believed to have disappeared in the far-off times, along with his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu achieved international attention in 1968, when a military technician called Emil Barnea captured on film what he reported as a unidentified flying object hovering above a oval meadow in the heart of the forest.
Many came in here and vanished without trace. But don't worry," he states, turning to the traveler with a smirk. "Our excursions have a 100% return rate."
In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has drawn meditation experts, shamans, UFO researchers and paranormal investigators from across the world, curious to experience the strange energies believed to resonate through the forest.
Current Risks
It may be one of the world's premier pilgrimage sites for lovers of the paranormal, the grove is facing danger. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – a modern tech hub of over 400,000 residents, known as the innovation center of the region – are expanding, and construction companies are pushing for authorization to clear the trees to build apartment blocks.
Aside from a few hectares housing locally rare specific tree species, the forest is lacking legal protection, but the guide believes that the company he co-founded – a local conservation effort – will assist in altering this, persuading the local administrators to appreciate the forest's significance as a tourist attraction.
Spooky Experiences
When small sticks and fall foliage split and rustle beneath their boots, the guide recounts numerous traditional stories and claimed supernatural events here.
- A well-known account recounts a young child vanishing during a family outing, only to rematerialise after five years with no recollection of the events, showing no signs of aging a moment, her clothes without the smallest trace of dust.
- More common reports explain mobile phones and photography gear mysteriously turning off on entering the woods.
- Emotional responses include full-blown dread to feelings of joy.
- Some people state seeing bizarre skin irritations on their arms, perceiving disembodied whispers through the trees, or experience palms pushing them, although certain nobody is nearby.
Research Efforts
Despite several of the tales may be unverifiable, there are many things before my eyes that is certainly unusual. Throughout the area are vegetation whose stems are bent and twisted into unusual forms.
Various suggestions have been given to clarify the deformed trees: powerful storms could have bent the saplings, or inherently elevated electromagnetic fields in the soil cause their crooked growth.
But scientific investigations have turned up inconclusive results.
The Legendary Opening
The guide's tours permit visitors to engage in a little scientific inquiry of their own. Upon reaching the opening in the woods where Barnea captured his well-known UFO images, he gives the visitor an electromagnetic field detector which measures EMF readings.
"We're entering the most active section of the forest," he says. "Discover what's here."
The vegetation abruptly end as they step into a complete ring. The sole vegetation is the trimmed turf beneath the ground; it's apparent that it's naturally occurring, and seems that this unusual opening is natural, not the result of landscaping.
Fact Versus Fiction
Transylvania generally is a location which inspires creativity, where the division is blurred between fact and folklore. In countryside villages faith continues in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, form-changing bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to haunt regional populations.
The novelist's well-known vampire Count Dracula is always connected with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a Saxon monolith situated on a cliff edge in the Carpathian Mountains – is keenly marketed as "the count's residence".
But even folklore-rich Transylvania – actually, "the territory after the grove" – seems solid and predictable in contrast to these eerie woods, which seem to be, for factors related to radiation, environmental or simply folkloric, a hub for human imaginative power.
"In Hoia-Baciu," Marius comments, "the division between reality and imagination is remarkably blurred."