Exploring this Globe's Spookiest Woodland: Contorted Trees, Flying Saucers and Eerie Tales in Transylvania.
"People refer to this place the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," remarks a tour guide, his breath forming wisps of condensation in the cold evening air. "Countless people have vanished here, some say there's a gateway to a parallel world." Marius is escorting a guest on a nocturnal tour through frequently labeled as the globe's spookiest grove: Hoia-Baciu, an area covering one square mile of old-growth native woodland on the fringes of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.
Centuries of Mystery
Stories of unusual events here date back a long time – the forest is titled for a area shepherd who is reportedly went missing in the long ago, along with his entire flock. But Hoia-Baciu came to worldwide fame in 1968, when an army specialist known as Emil Barnea photographed what he described as a flying saucer suspended above a round opening in the centre of the forest.
Many came in here and vanished without trace. But rest assured," he adds, turning to the traveler with a smile. "Our tours have a 100% return rate."
In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has brought in meditation experts, traditional medicine people, UFO researchers and ghost hunters from worldwide, curious to experience the strange energies reported to reverberate through the forest.
Modern Threats
It may be a top global pilgrimage sites for paranormal enthusiasts, the forest is under threat. The outlying areas of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of a population exceeding 400,000, known as the Silicon Valley of eastern Europe – are expanding, and construction companies are campaigning for authorization to clear the trees to erect housing complexes.
Barring a few hectares home to locally rare specific tree species, this woodland is lacking legal protection, but the guide believes that the initiative he was instrumental in creating – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will contribute to improving the situation, motivating the government officials to appreciate the forest's value as a tourist attraction.
Spooky Experiences
While branches and autumn leaves break and crackle beneath their boots, Marius tells various traditional stories and claimed ghostly incidents here.
- One famous story recounts a young child vanishing during a family picnic, then to reappear half a decade later with no memory of her experience, having not aged a single day, her garments shy of the smallest trace of dust.
- Frequent accounts detail mobile phones and camera equipment mysteriously turning off on stepping into the forest.
- Reactions range from complete terror to feelings of joy.
- Certain individuals report seeing bizarre skin irritations on their skin, hearing disembodied whispers through the woodland, or feel fingers clutching them, despite being sure they are alone.
Research Efforts
Despite several of the tales may be hard to prove, there is much clearly observable that is undeniably strange. Throughout the area are trees whose bases are curved and contorted into fantastical shapes.
Different theories have been given to clarify the deformed trees: that hurricane winds could have bent the saplings, or inherently elevated electromagnetic fields in the earth explain their unusual development.
But scientific investigations have discovered inconclusive results.
The Legendary Opening
The expert's tours allow participants to participate in a small-scale research of their own. When nearing the clearing in the trees where Barnea captured his well-known UFO pictures, he passes the traveler an EMF meter which detects EMF readings.
"We're venturing into the most energetic section of the forest," he states. "Try to detect something."
The vegetation immediately cease as they step into a complete ring. The sole vegetation is the low vegetation beneath the ground; it's apparent that it's naturally occurring, and seems that this unusual opening is natural, not the creation of human hands.
Between Reality and Imagination
Transylvania generally is a location which stirs the imagination, where the division is indistinct between truth and myth. In traditional settlements superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – supernatural, shapeshifting vampires, who rise from their graves to haunt nearby villages.
The novelist's well-known fictional vampire is always connected with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a Saxon monolith perched on a rocky outcrop in the Transylvanian Alps – is heavily promoted as "the vampire's home".
But even myth-shrouded Transylvania – literally, "the territory after the grove" – seems real and understandable compared to the haunted grove, which give the impression of being, for causes radioactive, atmospheric or simply folkloric, a center for human imaginative power.
"Inside these woods," Marius comments, "the division between truth and fantasy is extremely fine."