It is 11 October, 2014. I am writing this in Kathmandu, capital of Nepal at the foot of the majestic Himalayas. The date is only marginally significant – it is now 2 years and seven months since I was successfully operated on for pancreatic cancer – but the location perhaps is more revealing. Kathmandu is a city of life and laughter and matches perfectly the mood of someone who not only has escaped the usual fate of those struck by the deadliest of all the cancers, but has also shaken off the insidious side-effects of chemotherapy, the «planned poisoning» that represents the world’s default treatment for malignant tumors.