Sometimes I go for little journeys inside my head, for no particular reason except to pass the time, and because I can. They're also a good cure for insomnia, much more effective than counting sheep.

They usually start at my house in Foxwood Road in London, and often head up the hill towards Blackheath station - a seven-minute walk I did perhaps three thousand times during my eighteen years there, the last being in July 2008, so the memories are still very vivid.

Sometimes I travel so fast that the houses on either side are a blur; sometimes I stop and pass the time of day with a neighbour. It's an oddly satisfying exercise that eases the sadness of separation from England.

Now, Sergey Brin and Larry Page are doing the job for me, freeing up precious brain cells for more useful tasks like earning a living and remembering my own name. Today, they launched Google Street View in the UK, offering a 360-degree, driver's-eye experience of most of the country's main cities.

This morning, I relived the journey on my computer screen instead of in my cerebral cortex. I left my former home and set off up Lee Park, the road leading to the station.

The pictures must have been taken last summer. The trees were in leaf, a dense canopy that allows you to walk most of the way to the station in pouring rain without getting wet; the stunning rockery on the corner of Shearman Road was past its springtime best; and the people were wearing t-shirts.

I scanned their faces, trying to spot someone I knew, but they'd been blurred to protect their privacy. When Google Street View was launched in the US, people were reportedly captured sunbathing naked, breaking into other people's homes, and visiting adult bookstores.

Outside number 64 Lee Park, two women stood chatting and eyed the Google car as it passed with its festoon of cameras. Another sped past on a bicycle, and a man walked his black dog.

At the top of the hill, I strolled past Costcutter, surely London's most inappropriately named grocery store. In the window, there was a big sign saying Convenient, Fresh, Friendly, Local, Value (I disagreed with most of these descriptions, but that's neither here nor there), and posters advertising French lessons, three bottles of cider for four pounds, and a children's bring and buy sale.

I continued past Prime Time Video, where the clock read 2:05; briefly peered through the window of the Cancer Research charity shop where I used to work, but saw no one I recognised; and overtook a 54 bus as I headed towards Greenwich Park. I had one more place to pay my respects.

When Jayne died, her friends and relatives installed a bench in the park with a little brass plaque on the back in her memory (if you're ever in the area, please take some polish with you). It has a spectacular view of the Thames and historic Greenwich, and is popular with passers-by catching their breath on the way up the steep hill.

Sadly, I couldn't see the bench because it was too far away from the camera, but maybe it's just as well that this amazing technology still has its limitations. Britain is already a surveillance society, with more CCTV cameras per head than any other country in the world and with privacy and human rights way down the government's list of priorities. Sometimes, people should just be left in peace.