Exploring the World's Most Haunted Forest: Twisted Trees, Flying Saucers and Eerie Tales in Romania's Legendary Region.
"Locals dub this place the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania," remarks a tour guide, the air from his lungs creating puffs of mist in the chilly evening air. "So many individuals have gone missing here, some say it's an entrance to a parallel world." The guide is escorting a visitor on a nocturnal tour through frequently labeled as the world's most haunted forest: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of ancient local woods on the edges of the Romanian city of Cluj-Napoca.
Centuries of Mystery
Reports of strange happenings here date back a long time – this woodland is named after a regional herder who is believed to have disappeared in the far-off times, accompanied by 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu gained worldwide fame in 1968, when an army specialist called Emil Barnea took a picture of what he described as a unidentified flying object floating above a round opening in the middle of the forest.
Numerous entered this place and never came out. But no need to fear," he adds, addressing the traveler with a smirk. "Our excursions have a flawless completion rate."
In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has brought in yogis, traditional medicine people, extraterrestrial investigators and ghost hunters from worldwide, eager to feel the strange energies believed to resonate through the forest.
Current Risks
Although it is among the planet's leading destinations for lovers of the paranormal, this woodland is under threat. The western suburbs of Cluj-Napoca – an innovative digital cluster of more than 400,000 people, known as the tech capital of eastern Europe – are encroaching, and developers are campaigning for permission to clear the trees to erect housing complexes.
Barring a limited section containing locally rare specific tree species, the forest is without conservation status, but the guide is confident that the organization he was instrumental in creating – a local conservation effort – will contribute to improving the situation, encouraging the government officials to appreciate the forest's significance as a travel hotspot.
Spooky Experiences
As twigs and fall foliage snap and crunch beneath their boots, the guide recounts some of the folk tales and reported ghostly incidents here.
- A well-known account tells of a little girl going missing during a family outing, then to reappear half a decade later with no recollection of what had happened, showing no signs of aging a day, her clothes shy of the tiniest bit of dirt.
- Regular stories detail mobile phones and photography gear mysteriously turning off on entering the woods.
- Reactions range from full-blown dread to states of ecstasy.
- Certain individuals claim seeing bizarre skin irritations on their bodies, perceiving disembodied whispers through the woodland, or sense palms pushing them, despite being certain nobody is nearby.
Scientific Investigations
Although numerous of the tales may be hard to prove, there are many things visibly present that is definitely bizarre. All around are plants whose stems are warped and gnarled into unusual forms.
Multiple explanations have been given to explain the deformed trees: strong gales could have altered the growth, or typically increased radioactivity in the ground account for their strange formation.
But scientific investigations have discovered insufficient proof.
The Notorious Meadow
The guide's walks allow visitors to engage in a little scientific inquiry of their own. Upon reaching the meadow in the woods where Barnea took his well-known UFO images, he gives the visitor an EMF meter which measures energy patterns.
"We're venturing into the most active section of the forest," he says. "Discover what's here."
The plants suddenly stop dead as the group enters into a perfect circle. The single plant life is the short grass beneath their shoes; it's obvious that it's naturally occurring, and seems that this strange clearing is organic, not the work of people.
The Blurred Line
Transylvania generally is a area which stirs the imagination, where the division is unclear between reality and legend. In traditional settlements faith continues in strigoi ("screamers") – undead, shapeshifting creatures, who return from burial sites to frighten nearby villages.
The novelist's famous vampire Count Dracula is forever associated with Transylvania, and the legendary fortress – a medieval building perched on a cliff edge in the Carpathian Mountains – is actively advertised as "the vampire's home".
But even folklore-rich Transylvania – actually, "the place beyond the forest" – feels tangible and comprehensible versus this spooky forest, which give the impression of being, for causes nuclear, climatic or purely mythical, a nexus for creative energy.
"In Hoia-Baciu," the guide states, "the boundary between fact and fiction is remarkably blurred."