Greece for the first tim

Under the warm and bright Greece’s afternoon light, on the immense and quite road of Farakla village, a man – a stranger - with his borrowed bike were heading to the nearest village which was still 10 km away. The cherry trees were blossoming in the breath of spring on his left and on his right the pipe trees were waving their leaves shivering chaste water drop which was left by the earlier rain.
It was the first time for him to see a cherry tree. He stopped, watched intimately with his tiny eyes all the white flowers. For him, they are precious pearls. As he sniffed a flower which was still on the branch, a crisp sense enters his nose and goes down to his lung. He felt the heaven is at hand. After scrutinizing the tree to his satisfaction, the stranger got on his bike and carried on his journey. A mixed warm and cold spring breeze ran through his very soul just as though he was softly touched by an angle palm.
Less than 8 km to the destination, he passed a bee farm hill where was covered by artificial hives. Apparently, that was also the first time he see artificial bee hives. Red, blue, pink, purple, etc. those boxes were a rainbow whose other side is a jar of golden honey. From those boxes, yellow collectors flied in and out over the place carrying goods to their Queen. The buzz was loud yet strangely harmonious. It is the sound of wealthy and prosperity. The stranger asks himself a simple question which till now he have not answered “Does anything in this mundane world have its own written fate and there is nothing we could do to change it?” The question keeps running through his mind for a while and like usual it was burden into distraction.
He kept on cycling. Going up and down hills. The wind ran from the hill down the forest through the pipe trees. Everything seemed to lose its self-consciousness about time. He sat there, on his bicycle and let the wind full fill his soul with peace. The road ran on forever.
Finally, he got to the Kirinthos village. The golden drops of light lied on mossed traditional Greek houses in such a way that the place is shimmering in the afternoon. He stared steadily at the road he just passed. He recalled, it was like just yesterday while he was sitting in his room and was reading an advice from Paul Theroux for writer and photographer: “Go as far as you can. Become a stranger in a strange land. Acquire humility.”