After we were dumped in some East German siding with an unpronounceable name, a Thirties milk train from central casting took us to the smart square red-brick station in primary colors that was the regional transport hub. Which is where I spotted Rick.

Meeting people you have known for a quarter of a century in places hundreds of miles from anywhere you have been before is an Act of God (AoG), I reckon.

Rick and I seemed both to be heading for Munich so we caught the same train and nattered. AoG # 2 was that Steve Thomas was riding the same train.

All Rick said was "Tim, this is Steve. He writes a beer guide too".

Initially I thought I might be talking to a hobo. He was sat there looking to all intents and purposes like a normal passenger only surrounding by bulging plastic bags. My memory says dozens — there were probably only two.

"Oh I don’t really" he apologized in a lilt that came from one end of Glamorgan or the other. "Its just a record of everywhere I’ve been and what I’ve drunk, see. Helps convince my girlfriend that I am not up to no good. I try to visit all the breweries in Germany, see."

"So how many breweries are there in Germany then?" I asked.

"Well, good question. I reckon it’s one thousand two hundred and eighty-three but I think five of them are shut and I’m usually behind but a handful of new ones."

I thought I’d push my luck on the diagnostics, so asked "And how many beers to they produce, then?"

"Seven thousand one hundred and thirteen." He answered immediate, then added a rider. "As of last week."

Diagnosis made. Hobo. Only question left, how to get out of there. But it was a train, so I couldn’t really and instead asked "And how many of the breweries have you actually been to?", expecting him to say a couple of dozen.

"I don’t really know but I reckon it must be about five hundred. I’ve seen a lot of the others, mind. And I’ve drunk in most of the ausschenken."

"House shenking?"

"Brewery taps like."

"And just how many brewery taps are we talking about?"

"Nine hundred and seventy-one..."

"...as of yesterday, yes, I get the drift."

By the time we reached the next station I had realized that this man had just written the Good Beer Guide to Germany. Only he didn’t know it yet.

Two years later and with designer Dale Tomlinson being kept alive by caffeine infusions direct to the brain and nutrients by central line only, the book we always assumed would be impossible appeared.

The Good Beer Guide (to) Germany is not only a 573-page encyclopedia of German breweries and their beers, it tells you how to get around, when and where to go, and where to drink in places from Hamburg to Berlin and Dseldorf to München, with a special feature on Bamburg, the cutest beer drinking town on Earth.

Order The Good Beer Guide Germany