I'd just said goodbye to my translator and driver, all of us trying not to cry. The driver, Haji, a white bearded veteran, has crossed frontlines and dodged rockets with seven correspondents. This is the first time he's seen one expelled. Huge shock Azam, the translator, has only been in the job two months. He's keen, intelligent, hungry to learn - and now faces an uncertain future.
Unpredictability is the nature of life in Afghanistan.
I've always known I could have to leave at a moment's notice, always tried not to get too attached. But still, the order to leave was a huge shock. At 9am on Wednesday morning I was in the Taleban Foreign Ministry being given a six-month visa. Two hours later, I returned for a press conference, only for officials to beckon me over and tell me they thought it would be better for me to leave the country for a while. If an Afghan wants to break the news that your father has died, they will say at first that he is a bit poorly.