There I was, glancing from the front door to what seemed impossible to see in a country which was still sunken in the coldness of communism two decades ago. The labyrinth I was about to enter was showcasing all the highlights of the so-called Estonian digital society, regarded as one of the world’s most advanced ones. But before I entered the e-Estonia Showroom, I couldn’t help but notice a mesmerizing discrepancy. How didn’t I notice it earlier? Half an hour ago I had climbed down from one of Tallinn’s medieval walls that have survived since the 14th and 15th centuries and, moments after, I was about to see my English colleague riding a winged unicorn using virtual-reality technology. But let’s roll back and see how does an ultimately digitalized community survive between the walls of a fortress. Cobbling nations It was the first morning since me and the other fellow journalists arrived in Tallinn to explore the cyber-nation that Estonia proved to be. We gathered not only from all the corners of Europe but also from 6,000 km apart countries like Canada to untangle the mysterious Tallinn. For example, it took seconds for me and Kristina Garaiova, the Slovakian counterpart, to build bridges at the opening dinner. “I think I already start to like you”, said Kristina to me after finding out we both liked tennis, go to the gym regularly and that we have similar backgrounds, both of us coming from ex-communist countries. Our first task was to explore the city to get a taste of its strong medieval allure. Enjoying the appeasing sound made by our footsteps as were walking on a cobbled street, we woke up facing two giant fortress towers. That was the gate to the Old Town. Medieval bricks and something more I had the feeling of entering a centuries old burg: a mini-statue in front of the Olde Hansa (meaning old-tribe) inn holding a little panel with the message “Stop for a rest, the food here is the best”; a restaurant called Peppersack whose highlight was exactly a sack hanging from the roof to the entrance; textured medieval flags symbolizing past medieval formations waving below the second-floor windows of the buildings; and little lampposts decorating multiple crossroads of narrow paths, all wrapped up in the spicy smell of a Nordic kind of wine called Glogi. The goal of the day was to grasp a sense of the medieval part of the city, but as we were heading back to the hotel I couldn’t help noticing a self-driven car starting its engines and making right on its own when the traffic light turned green, and three young women while they inserted their ID cards into their laptops. I learned afterward that Estonians can do almost anything online with the help of these cards, from securing parking spots and paying taxes to i-Voting and establishing a company. The day ended at the hotel when I and Kristina found out we are next-door neighbors. “See you tomorrow, neighbor!”, I said knowing that the day after will have us reaching the digital core of Tallinn by visiting the e-Estonia showroom, the home of that VR winged unicorn we were talking about at the beginning of the story. Out of the labyrinth After having a good laugh at Mr. Jones (the English colleague), I took a close look at the little robots that are used for educational purposes — even for kindergarten children — touch-screen interfaces everywhere, hexagonal carbon-textured figures that you are supposed to move onto a surface to gain access to precious insights of the Estonian society and more. After immersing ourselves in the technological paradise showcased in that labyrinth, my colleagues and I went straight to the minibus and headed right to the Old Town. There, we started to stare at the medieval towers that looked like a mirage through the drops of rain and the lamppost lights. Using Kristina’s scarf as a shared umbrella, I realized that this trip taught me not only how technology and traditions can coexist harmoniously, but also how people from different cultures can forge life-lasting bonds.