A night full of rats, bedbugs and warmth: how a bus journey from Soyo to Luanda turned into one of the most wonderful travel experiences

Some travel experiences, when you tell them, sound like pure nightmare material. Bed bugs. Rats. Cockroaches. A short circuit in the middle of the night. A toilet without water. And yet – when I think back to that night in the bus agency somewhere between Soyo and Luanda, I feel above all else: warmth.

This is the story of a bus ride that was supposed to last only a few hours but ended up becoming one of the most intense, most human experiences of my entire journey through Angola. Sit with me – this story has a bit of slapstick, a bit of horror, and a very, very big heart.

The Start: Three in the afternoon, and suddenly the bus stops

Traveling off the beaten path in Africa means above all one thing: schedules are suggestions, not promises. I knew this when I boarded the bus in Soyo heading to Luanda. What I didn’t know was that I would be learning this lesson particularly intensely on this day.

It was around three in the afternoon when the bus simply… stopped. Not because of a breakdown. But because the drivers decided that it wasn’t going any further for now. “We’ll continue at seven in the evening,” they said.

A four-hour break, in the middle of the afternoon, without warning. In the bus, a wave of excitement immediately broke out – discussions, sighs, a few louder voices. I turned to my seat neighbor and said something like: “That will definitely change again.” Because that’s my experience with such announcements in West and Central Africa: they are rarely final.

And indeed – no sooner had some passengers set off to get something to eat nearby or visit relatives than the plan changed again. Suddenly it was supposed to continue earlier. Which in turn meant: now we had to wait for those who had left.

Do you know that feeling when a plan changes what feels like five times in two hours, and in the end you just have to laugh? That’s exactly how I sat there – in the middle of this wonderfully chaotic dance of departure, delay, plan change, and delay again. And I have to say: there was something beautiful about it. That collective serenity with which all the other passengers accepted it. No one seemed truly surprised. It was simply… how traveling here sometimes is.

The Arrival: Late at night, without a plan

Eventually, we did get going, and we drove through the night – for hours, through the darkness of Angola, past lights that flashed in the distance and disappeared again. I had originally planned to go directly to my camping spot upon arrival in Luanda, or take a taxi if necessary.

But when we finally arrived, it was already late into the night. The streets were empty, dark, and I was – let’s be honest – with my dog, my luggage, and my fatigue, not in the best state to organize a longer trip through an unfamiliar city right then.

And then came the suggestion that would make this night something truly special: “Why don’t you just sleep here, at the bus agency? Everyone sleeps here.”

“Everyone sleeps here” – An invitation I hadn’t expected

I remember exactly the moment that sentence was spoken. It came so naturally, so casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. And for the people who said it, it was.

I quickly sent a message to the owner of my planned camping spot that I would come later. And then I made a decision that I would later describe as one of the best of this entire journey: I stayed.

Have you ever made a spontaneous decision where one part of you immediately knew “this is going to be uncomfortable,” but another part said “this is exactly what you want – real encounters, real life, off the tourist trail”? That’s how this moment felt to me.

The bus agency hall: Between mattresses, mice, and humanity

What followed was a night I won’t soon forget – and one that catapulted me out of my comfort zone in almost every way.

Mattresses were brought. Old mattresses. Really old. Mattresses that I’m pretty sure should have been disposed of long ago. But for the people here, they were apparently completely normal – a fixed part of this improvised overnight accommodation that is regularly used.

And then the reality of those mattresses: bed bugs. A blanket was laid over the mattress – a kind of makeshift protection, “so it doesn’t itch as much,” as it was explained to me. So I lay on a mattress full of bed bugs, with a thin blanket as the only barrier, trying to completely switch off my European hygiene awareness for one night.

And then there were the rats and mice. Everywhere. Really everywhere – under the seats, between the luggage, in the corners of the room. I heard them before I saw them, and when I saw them, I quickly realized: they had their eye on my backpack.

I admit it openly – I thrashed around, yelled, everything you do when you suddenly discover rats on your backpack. In the end, me and a few of the other travelers put my backpack together in the middle of the room. Because in the corners, where all the traders’ luggage was stored, rats and cockroaches scurried about with a matter-of-factness that was apparently completely normal for the others.

Was it terrible? Yes. Was it an adventure? Definitely. Was it both at the same time? Absolutely.

One mattress for five: How strangers became sleepmates

What made this night particularly unforgettable for me was not just what was happening around me – but who was around me.

On one mattress slept two women with their two children. On my mattress – two men, me, and my dog. Yes, you read that right: my dog was allowed on the mattress. As I was aware, this is anything but a given. But the men sharing the mattress with me simply said: “Okay, no problem.”

This naturalness with which people share here – space, mattresses, room, even the proximity to a strange dog – impressed me deeply. They were traders, people who regularly travel between Soyo, Cabinda, and Luanda to transport and sell goods. For them, this night in the bus agency was nothing extraordinary. It is routine. Part of their daily life, their work, their existence.

For me, it was a lesson in hospitality that I had not experienced before. People who themselves had so little – an old mattress, a spot on the floor – shared that little comfort they had, without hesitation, with a stranger and her dog.

The night itself: Between fear, exhaustion, and deep sleep

At first, I could hardly fall asleep. The sounds of the rats, the itching that I was probably imagining for the most part (and for a small part probably not), the unfamiliar environment, the unfamiliar people around me – all of that kept me awake.

But fatigue is a powerful opponent to discomfort. At some point, after hours of lying awake, I fell into a deep, solid sleep. A sleep that surprised me – because under “normal” circumstances, I would have thought I wouldn’t be able to close an eye in that environment.

Another small drama occurred that night: someone had used a faulty electrical outlet to charge their phone. There was a brief short circuit – a small fire, luckily quickly brought under control. After that, the power was completely out.

And me? I slept. Deep and sound. Sometimes exhaustion is the best filter for chaos.

As for the sanitary facilities: there was a toilet in a kind of storage room. The flush didn’t work, there was no water. But honestly – at that moment, I couldn’t have cared less. The main thing was that there was any option at all. Sometimes the standards we take for granted at home are much more negotiable in reality than we think.

The next morning: From the ghetto straight to luxury

The next morning, something happened that elevated this entire experience to another level. The people with whom I had spent this chaotic, uncomfortable, boundary-pushing night advocated for me. They arranged an affordable transportation option to my actual camping spot.

And that camping spot? Pure luxury compared to the night before.

This contrast – from a night full of rats, bed bugs, and shared mattresses straight into a comfortable, almost luxurious environment – is something I experience again and again on this journey. These extreme opposites that lie so close together. “I get everywhere,” as they say – and indeed: from one extreme to another, sometimes within a few hours.

What remains: Not the rats, but the people

When I think back to that night today, it’s not the bed bugs that come to mind first. It’s not the rats, not the short circuit, not the lack of flush water.

It’s the people.

It’s the naturalness with which they offered me – a stranger with a dog – a spot on their mattress. It’s the carefreeness with which they deal with circumstances that were a real challenge for me but are simply everyday life for them. It’s the kindness the next morning, when they made an effort to ensure I could continue well and affordably.

Encounters while traveling are sometimes exactly that: not the perfect, planned moments, but the chaotic, unplanned, uncomfortable ones – that end up giving us the most.

Conclusion: Why this night became one of my favorite experiences

I won’t say I want to experience this night again exactly as it was. Bed bugs and rats are not among my preferred sleeping companions, just as an honest side note.

But when I look back, one thing clearly outweighs everything else: the feeling of having been welcome. The feeling of having been part of a community – even if only for one night. The feeling that hospitality does not depend on comfort, but on the willingness to share the little one has.

Traveling off the beaten path means opening yourself up to such situations. It means feeling your own limits – and sometimes going beyond them. And it means realizing in the end that the most uncomfortable nights are often the ones that teach us the most about life, about people, and about ourselves.

That night in the bus agency between Soyo and Luanda was chaotic, unpleasant, downright scary at times. And at the same time, it was one of the warmest, most human experiences of my entire journey through Angola.

Sometimes, between horror and heartwarming, there is just a thin blanket over an old mattress.

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Have you ever had an overnight stay that was anything but comfortable – but still unforgettably beautiful? Feel free to tell me about your experience in the comments.