Konyaks - the tattooed headhunters of Nagaland

On a bright Sunday afternoon, I was standing on a hilltop - one foot in India and the other in Myanmar. With neither a passport nor a visa in hand, there I was straddling across an international border [another thing off the 30 before 30 list]. In front of me, were the mountains of Myanmar covered in a dense blanket of lush greenery.