48 hours in Hong Kong

Another of those long coast trips down to Hong Kong, with time enough to just chill, tramp around old haunts, and munch - Indian, Vietnamese, a good burger, ice cream, cheese, and chocolates. Is it a silly bad habit to go straight to a bookstore (one I had never been to, I felt like I should make a wish, a habit that my mother fostered in us when we'd go to a new church), and buy a book, some magazines, knowing I could have saved money on buying used books, but the smell, oh the smell of a bookstore, the paper, the chemicals, the silly knick-knacks?
My rented room is along a row of pet stores, and the one next door has a number of pure breed cats on show. One of them, a scottish fold, looked up at me, raised its paws, and mewed. Oh, be still my melting knees. If only I could take you home with me, such a cutie.
Before taking refuge in the airconditioned chill of the movie theatre (HP6; why am I damned never to see UP in a theater? It opens the day I go back to China.), I wander the lower bowels of SOGO. I used to live a stone's throw away from SOGO in the late 90's, and I mourn how little I took advantage of it's amazing fruit selections, the fun little cooking items from Japan. Now, I wish I had time, money, and suitcase space enough to take them all home. Isn't that always the case?
I'm heading into Indian food territory later, expecting to reek of spice and garlic. Then a night of street food noshing, soaking in all the neon lights, people watching, window shopping, fantasizing about who would want a plastic raincoat studded with grommets (K, I'm thinking you), and maybe meowing back at the kitty cat before it gets taken to a new home. Or should I plan a cat heist??