Buses bring Mosquitoes

I sat with my knife in hand, passport hidden, and door and window locked last night at 10pm as our intruder alarm took command over my air conditioner. This was a new city, with no more friends, and no one else in my room. I waited and waited, hoping I wouldn´t have to plunge my leatherman into my cab driver who was breaking in to rob me for trying to rip him off (he ended up winning that one because i got so pissed at him). Then it went quiet, so I read and went to bed. Then they came.
Mosquitos. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. Maybe hundreds of thousands invaded my locked room. Penetrating my safehouse, they swarmed me and attacked. Well, that probably didn´t happen, but I woke up at 215am with monstrous welts all over and a slight buzzing in the room. After spraying myself with repellant, hiding in my sheet, attacking it with my pillow, switching beds, switching sheets, spraying myself again, and looking at my watch (now 415), I finally swatted the one last mosquito around (also the only one I saw and maybe only one the entire time). At 430 I fell asleep, and woke up this morning with no additional bites.
So this all happened at my HostellingInternational hostel in Porto Seguro, a town I passed through before my 20 minute bus ride after a 10 minute ferry ride this morning to get where I am (d´Ajuda).I only went to the HI hostel - if you recall the swiss german strange guy that was also at an HI - because it was 9 pm when I got off a 7 hour bus (the sun sets at 530 here and it is pitch black by 6). And I only got in that long argument with my cab driver because I´m told not to walk at nighttime near bus stations, and not having realized that the scale of my map was so small, such that I was only 1km from the center of town not 3, I chose to take a cab to protect myself and thus succumb to his demands.
I should also add that I am not in a particularly heavy mosquito area, unlike the Pantanal - an area I will be in later - in which my British friend got 89 bites on her legs because she wore black (she got 3 on her upper body, and Lonely Planet I just learned advises against black clothing).
Anyways the 7 hour bus was from Ilheus, a switch city for me where I left my 3 British, 2 Swedish and Israeli friends who made a last minute decision to stop in Vitoria on their way to Rio. This bus ride was an hour and a half from Itacaré, the city we spent 4 days literally tanning by day and drinking by night (I also read in the sun and we also played cards in the dark). This city was - as I already said - an hour and a half from Ilheus, where we had to stop on our way to Itacaré. And thus that brings me back to last week when we took a 6 hour bus from Salvador. Of course other stuff happened to, but I am scratching the skin off my ankles the way a leper must attack his face, and I thus must get some sleep before my samba and capoeira lessons tomorrow.