I set off to wander some of the oldest streets in Hong Kong, beginning below the start of the Central-Mid-level escalator. My first stop is the Good Spring Company on the corner of Stanley and Cochrane streets, a traditional herbal teahouse that has been dispensing Chinese herbal cures since 1916. Three herbal teas are ready to go, and while I consider the honey-colored American ginseng and flower teas, the brewer recommends the dark 24-varieties tea, a bitter brew that I have to trust is good for me. All around, staff measure out herbs, roots and dried ingredients from the wooden drawers lining the shop. An herbalist is dispensing advice but, fortified by the mystery tea, I head for the market.

Hong Kong has been shopping in the outdoor “wet market” along Graham and Gage streets since the1840s. On Graham Street, stalls are brimming with vegetables, fruit, flowers and other produce. Some items are puzzling, such as thousand-year-old eggs and what turn out to be preserved vegetables. Others are simply fantastically colorful — papayas, pineapples and mangos are piled up with Barbie-pink dragon-fruit; and odd spiky durian are ready for their close-up.

Business is brisk at the fish stalls. “You want garupa, you want prawns? It’s all fresh!” calls the stallholder, switching among at least three languages. Most fish are swimming in polystyrene pools or flapping on the chopping block — it doesn’t get fresher than this.

When you are used to buying meat from refrigerators and freezers, Gage Street’s open-air meat stalls with bloody wooden chopping blocks and flesh hanging from hooks take some getting used to. Far more appealing are the roast meat shops, their windows filled with chunks of marinated and roasted pork, flat geese, ducks and chicken. Locals buy meat to take away or grab a quick meal. The dinners are basic, but the flavors are fantastic. Step into Lung Kee Restaurant (5 Gage St.) and try some char siu fan (barbecued pork with rice) with choi (vegetables) for $4–5.

Around the corner, Tsim Chai Kee Noodle (98 Wellington St.) is serving up bowls of king prawn wonton noodles for less than $3, a treat that earned praise from Michelin reviewers. I enjoy a late breakfast, but there’s no rest for the wait staff as they make fresh mountains of wontons, humming and chatting while deftly folding chunks of prawn in delicate wrappers.

Up on Hollywood Road, shops open between 10 and 11 a.m. Walking west to Sheung Wan, the contrast between old and new Hong Kong becomes greater. The road is lined with art galleries and antiques shops; contemporary Asian art sits alongside everything from reproduction terra-cotta warriors and Tibetan artifacts to classic Chinese ceramics, textiles and furniture.

I step into the 153-year old Man Mo Temple. The air is misty from the golden spirals of incense that seem suspended from the ceiling. As at most Hong Kong temples, worship is a fairly informal drop-in affair. Today, a few devotees on their way to work or home after the school-run are quietly praying to the Taoist gods of both literature (Man) and war (Mo).

Nearby in Upper Lascar Row, the Cat Street Market has even more antiques and furniture shops and is lined with stalls selling a mix of curios and mass-produced China-themed souvenirs. The antiques stores and chaotic junk shops are filled with the promise of vintage treasures. As I approach Possession Street, where the British first made their claim on Hong Kong Island in 1841, furniture shops are interspersed with coffin makers showing off giant wooden caskets. No impulse buys here.

A new addition to the neighborhood is 208 Duecento Otto (208 Hollywood Road), the latest venture of Yenn Wong, the founder of JIA Boutique Hotels. The two-floor New York-style Italian restaurant and bar is headed by Executive Chef Vinny Lauria, fresh from Babbo New York. The menu is rustic Italian, as is the décor, but the white and blue Chinese wall tiles give 208 a feel of longevity.

Hollywood Road stretches for one block before I reach Queen’s Road West. I turn down Sutherland Street and I am in the middle of Hong Kong’s wholesale traditional medicine and dried food industries. The distinctive aroma — with hints of star anise, ginseng and dried fish — denotes this area almost as clearly as the tubs of dried abalone and shrimp outside the stores.

In Ko Shing Street, men pushing hand-trolleys swiftly disperse container loads of dried ingredients for Chinese medicine and cuisine. Nearby Wing Lok Street and Bonham Strand West are dedicated to wholesalers selling birds’ nests, ginseng, dried seafood and mushrooms along with sea slugs, starfish, antlers and other, often unidentifiable items. More troubling is the phenomenal number of dried sharks’ fins on display. As the global center of the trade, this area is feeding an unsustainable demand for this prestigious banquet dish among China’s growing wealthy population.

All this meandering through food offerings makes me hungry, and it’s time to enjoy one of Hong Kong’s 10,000 restaurants. Fortunately, the choice has been made for me. I meet friends for dinner at Busy Suzie (1881 Heritage, Canton Road, Tsim Sha Tsui), a lively Japanese restaurant specializing in robatayaki where delicious meat, seafood and vegetables are grilled to order. From here, satisfied, I make the short walk to the best journey home in the world: the Star Ferry.