COVER STORY HOIA BACIU: ROMANIA’S HAUNTED FOREST
CHRIS HILL gets his teeth sorted out by a Transylvanian dentist and then heads into the forest of Hoia Baciu, where strangely contorted trees, UFOs and ‘time tunnels’ are proving a draw for paranormal tourism...
CHRIS HILL gets his teeth sorted out by a Transylvanian dentist and then heads into the forest of Hoia Baciu, where strangely contorted trees, UFOs and ‘time tunnels’ are proving a draw for paranormal tourism...
Mention Romania these days and you may well get an unwanted discourse on migrant labour and the iniquity of global capital. Mention Transylvania and the mood shifts to one of affection for things supernatural; Count Dracula, and the bloodthirsty denizens of Romanian folklore – Strigoi and Iele. 1 Mention the charming city of Cluj-Napoca and the standard reaction is: “Where?” That is, unless you are one of the true initiates
– a devotee of good dentistry at a reasonable cost. I mean, can there be a better place to have one’s teeth done than in Transylvania?
Sitting pleasantly in the north west of Transylvania, ClujNapoca is Romania’s second city and embodies the country’s complex history since pre-Roman times. The city is dominated by the Babes-Bolyai University, established in 1581, and offers an informal and relaxed social and cultural life. Located on the banks of the Somesul river and surrounded by wooded hills, the environs of the city appeal as much to residents today as they obviously did in 5800 BC, when the mysterious Starcevo-KorosCris culture 2 set down roots in the Lunga Valley, north east of Cluj-Napoca. Although an outpost of the Dacian Empire,3 it was the Roman conquest of the region under Trajan in AD 106 that marks Cluj-Napoca’s entry into historical records. Undergoing a significant commercial expansion, the settlement was granted the status of a municipality by Hadrian (AD 76-138) and became the capital of the region Dacia Porolissensis by the second century AD, when its status was changed to a colonia. By 274, however, the city’s good fortune was eclipsed and an evacuation of Roman interests took place, ushering in a more precarious phase in the region’s history.
The centuries that followed saw Transylvanian Saxons, Hungarians and ethnic Romanians stake their claims to political primacy. The late mediaeval period and the region’s coming under the aegis of the Austro-Hungarian Empire during the 16th to 18th centuries paved the way for subsequent foreign domination. The final threads of this complex tapestry – the period of Nazi control, Soviet liberation and absolute authoritarianism under the Ceaucescu regime – give Romania’s complex history a dark, spectral hue. It is this ‘darkness’ that feeds into the mystery of the forest, I believe, and offers the visitor easy entry into a web of myth and legend.
Parallel to Cluj-Napoca’s complex history is the equally baroque fabric of legend and folklore woven into Transylvania’s cloak of superstition and otherness – an alternative history, predating civil society, with its roots in the rivers, mountains and forests. And it is to the forest we will go: Hoia Baciu, the forest of the shepherds, on the southern outskirts of the city. At a height of 506m (1,660ft), Hoia offers both resident and visitor fresh air and possible
enchantment. Known in UFO and parapsychological circles as a hotspot, following a UFO sighting by a local military technician in 1968, Hoia has become Romania’s Roswell. So, root canals sorted and teeth buffed I decided to take a look for myself.
Interest in the forest has taken off in the last few years, largely due its promotion by knowledgeable locals Marius and Alex. Marius combines his job at the Cluj-Napoca tourist information agency with his activities as a guide, accompanying interested parties into the forest for both daytime and night-time excursions. Alex, a trained physicist, offers expertise in the many weird and wonderful episodes that characterise the forest’s mythology and its links to the city’s turbulent past. Through the auspices of the welcoming Tourist Office I arranged to meet Alex the following morning for a tailored excursion to the ‘hotspots’. He assured me that as a physicist he approached the forest with a scientific eye, allowing speculation in only when all material reasoning had been exhausted. The sombre October clouds did little to obscure the shifting yellow and umber tones of the leaf fall as we approached the periphery of the forest. As we strolled uphill we took time to enjoy the smell of the wet earth and collect the endless rows of field mushrooms, newly risen. First impressions were very favourable indeed.
Entering the forest, we headed towards the most visited part, the central clearing, a roughly circular patch of meadow around 50m (164ft) across and to which all paths appear to lead. The forest is both easily accessible and quite small, so it’s difficult to imagine that people get lost in it, let alone disappear. It is these rumours of vanishing people (usually a ‘friend of a friend’) that have led to suggestions that the forest is punctuated with ‘time tunnels’ and that weird spatial relocations are an everyday occurrence. Alex explained that parapsychological interest in the site was down to two scientists, both Romanian, one living and one dead.
Professor of Biology Alexandru Sift (1936-1993) began to research the forest in the 1960s. His interest was in identifying areas of unusual magnetic activity and light disturbances. Sift systematically documented his research activities and compiled what was, according to Alex, a formidable archive of scientific and photographic materials, including images of UFOs, bioplasmic phenomena and disc-shaped objects the professor claimed to have witnessed throughout the 1960s. Sadly, much of this material was lost following Sift’s death, the remainder being inherited by his successor, Adrian Patrut, professor of chemistry at the nearby Babes-Bolyai University. Still resident in Cluj-Napoca, Patrut is reluctant to discuss his theories regarding the forest, preferring to present his findings in his key work, The Phenomena of the Hoia-Baciu Forest (1995) and other monographs on the subject of parapsychology. 4 Alex told me that he had courted Patrut for quite some time before he agreed to a meeting to discuss his ideas. In a nutshell, Patrut’s initial interest in radioactive and magnetic emissions, bioplasma, UFO events and apparitions has been replaced by a more profoundly mystical discourse regarding the purpose and function of the forest. More on this later.
Meanwhile, we turned to one of the main aspects that underlie the forest’s haunted, otherworldly reputation: its trees. Arboreal weirdness occurs here in many different forms, none of which has ever been fully explained and all of which work in synchrony to create a strange and slightly claustrophobic ambience. First up are trees that have been twisted along their central axis, creating a corkscrew effect, regardless of the stage of growth cycle of the tree. To date, no convincing chemical, electromagnetic or meteorological explanation has been proffered. There are also species that exhibit multiple trunks with a singular root, including intertwined trunk systems of differing species. On top of this, we find trees that have grotesque, bulbous, outgrowths decorating their trunks and fostering a perception of the forest as something primal, unfettered and distinct from the everyday; these include what has become known as the ‘alien face’, a parasitic growth with, in my opinion, barely discernible features. Alex was sure there was a biological explanation,
Weird spatial relocations are an everyday occurrence
though it has yet to be found. The final anomaly came in the shape of trees whose branches, although adequately sun-blessed, eschewed their usual upward direction and grew towards the forest floor instead. Known as ‘arches’ they dominate certain areas of the forest and form what may be loosely described as tunnels. Similarly, there are other trees in which trunk growth is characterised by a movement 90 degrees to the original pitch. Neither of these growth anomalies has been adequately explained and were of great interest to Patrut, whose scientific speciality is dendrology. Alex singled out one tree in particular that Patrut believed to be inexplicable in its behaviour. When first recorded by Patrut, the tree had a branch system that exhibited unusual angles of growth and yet, to Patrut’s surprise, in more recent years it has resorted to a standard upward pattern of development. Patrut himself could find no material reason as to why, and so it remains a mystery.
I agreed with Alex that the strangeness the trees contribute to the atmosphere of the forest creates a perfect space in which to project one’s own desire for some sort of paranormal engagement, whether real or otherwise. For example, the arched branches, to many observers, become portals to time tunnels; when compounded by tales of people who disappear and re-emerge later, they become proof positive of the supernatural nature of the forest.
Alex told me of a time when he lost all sense of direction within the forest. He became disorientated and overwhelmed, quite unable to account for such feelings in light of his knowledge of each and every path. Interestingly, tales of bewilderment and disorientation feed into Patrut’s more recent theories as to the purpose of the forest. He suggests that it acts as a type of ‘psychic battery’ through which people may engage with the unknown, willingly or otherwise. He develops his idea by theorising that a type of ‘supernatural accountancy’ might take place through the medium of bioplasma; as the forest gives up its own energy to fulfil desire, each visitor is psychically ‘taxed’. Those who have witnessed spheres of light and ball lightning are merely witnessing the balance sheet in action.
Of course, the power of a good story is in its telling and our next port of call embodied the reputation of Hoia Baciu as a paranormal ‘must see’. The central clearing (‘Poiana Rotunda’), some 50m (164ft) into the forest, is the focal point for many visitors, being the site of the 1968 UFO event documented by Emil Barnea. Often cited as the reason why no trees or vegetation grow within the clearing, the UFO theory does not find favour with my guide. He explained that poor soil conditions and bad planting practice, not extraterrestrial radiation, accounted for the meadow-like conditions. Despite its probably mundane origin, the clearing still attracts plenty of visitors. Alex had witnessed both white and black magicians engaged in rituals of cleansing and demon invocation, Christian exorcists, home-grown and otherwise, and pilgrims following a route supposedly linked to the worship of St Mary. Of course, in terms of folkloric potential, visitors of any persuasion add to the frisson the forest offers the thrill-seeker. Unsurprisingly, little evidence of UFO activity has been reported, let alone anything supernatural, compelling both Alex and myself to conclude that perhaps it is just a meadow after all. Given the number of empty vodka bottles and beer cans, I suspected that some visitors to the forest came in search of more down-to-earth experiences than UFO sightings or visionary encounters.
It was on the perimeter of the clearing that a technician from the Travel Channel’s ‘Ghost Adventures’ team came over all peculiar as he stood by an arching tree. Reporting feelings of cosmic dread, he described being drawn into the forest as if pulled into a leafy maelstrom! Filming apparently ceased until he regained his composure. Almost on cue – as we stood within the jaws of said ‘time tunnel’ – an inexplicable wind gathered above our heads and a distinctly local rustling took place in the nearby canopy. I was impressed, and like many wanted to claim the event as a genuine forest anomaly.
Alex confessed that he had not experienced any psychic vampirism as such, but noted that he did always advise camera crews to bring extra batteries as the forest has a reputation for draining stored energy sources. Out of curiosity I checked my own camera, fully charged that very morning, to find it had dwindled in power significantly. Perhaps something was afoot after all. Research into electromagnetic field perturbations provides the main activity for many contemporary parapsychologists and physicists, and evidence has been gathered of unusual magnetic distribution
and movement across a central belt within the forest. Similarly, plenty of research focuses on acoustic and light phenomena and, in truth, it is these that many visitors identify as being supernatural.
Given the proximity of the forest to high voltage pylons and a major transport route, perhaps more rational explanations than discarnate entities and free-ranging energies are to be favoured. Natural phenomena such as ball lightning have been reported on many occasions, and indeed by my guide himself. For many Hoia Baciu devotees this sort of sighting alone is evidence that the forest is of paranormal interest. Mundanely, the refraction of car headlights and ambient lighting from the nearby conurbations could account for the lights seen within bushes and trees that appear to recede when approached. Similarly, the uncanny howling of the spirits of the dead might just be the grinding of serpentine branches against each other.
What remains of interest to me is the number of visitor-reported sightings compared to those by locals. Given that decades of research documentation have been lost it is impossible to ascertain if this was always the case. Typical of the non-verifiable ‘real life’ stories are tales of people who disappear and then return after considerable time has passed, those who just disappear, the feeling of being followed, and the oft-cited sensations of anxiety and dread. However, it is true to say that such stories typify the mythos of forests and valleys worldwide, landscapes that almost demand a narrative underpinning. When I asked Alex what the locals thought, he told me that those who use the forest as a place of work and who have lived in its shadow for generations have few tales of any note. Drunken teenagers tend to be the key source of any contemporary tales, not unsurprisingly, and there has been little police intervention in the many cases of those who are missing, presumed fallen into a time tunnel. Although an everpresent folklore still clings to
Hoia Baciu, the forest appears to offer up its otherworldly delights only to a lucky (or unlucky) few. Thankfully, this does not detract from one’s enjoyment of a very beautiful locale.
After our three-hour sojourn I was satisfied that Hoia Baciu is a fantastic place to visit and one that would offer the visitor with a supernatural agenda ample opportunity for a fantastical experience; for my part, I was pleased with my singular encounter with some somewhat inexplicable tree rustling. It’s the magnetic appeal of the forest to a broad spectrum of spiritual and scientific searchers that embodies its significance for me. As a welcome breather from uptown Cluj, tours of the forest are great value for money and a great way to meet local characters like Alex and Marius, who ensure that the forest is not over-exploited and guarantee the experience you want. I fully recommend Hoia as a must for any tour of Transylvania since it complements the Gothic wonderment of Brasov cathedral, the stunning salt mines at the unfortunately named Turda, Bran Castle and the brooding Lake Tarnita with its resident Nessie-style occupants. Where there’s a lake, there’s a monster;
where there’s a forest, there’s a spectre!
For more pictures of the Hoia Baciu forest visit www.instagram.com/ hoiabaciuforest/
NOTES
1 The Strigoi are a generic type of spirit of the dead; shapeshifters, they seek out victims to drink their blood – forest vampires. The Iele are a far more attractive proposition, being virgin fairies who specialise in dancing through the treetops. Apparently found in groups of three or seven their mission is to seduce men and draw them into the forest to dance.
2 The Starcevo-Koros-Cris Culture combines three Neolithic groups who had a presence in South Eastern and Central Europe between 5500 and 4500 BC.
3 The Dacian Empire, at its height a rival to Roman supremacy in Central Europe, held sway in what is now predominantly Romania with the Carpathian Mountains at its centre between 82 BC and AD 106.
4 From Normal to Paranormal,
Vol. 1 [Dacia, Cluj-Napoca, 1991]; From Normal to Paranormal, Vol. 2 [Sincron, Cluj-Napoca, 1992]; From Normal to Paranormal, 2nd Ed. (revised), [Dacia, Cluj-Napoca, 1993]. Available only in Romanian.
CHRIS HILL is an experimental musician and composer with a lifelong interest in occultism, and anomalous encounters. On occasion, he teaches English.
There are tales of people who disappear and then return