Nobody had the Ukraine on their holiday list. Maybe they did, but it seems unlikely. But in the spring of 2018, that's where thousands of Liverpool supporters found themselves, arriving in all manner of money saving ways.

People came in on arduous, sleep-deprived day trips, The Anfield Wrap drove on a bus from their office in Liverpool city centre — something I politely declined. Instead I travelled with a group of childhood friends via Copenhagen — one of the smoother routes to a place nobody had any idea of what was in store.

The arrival into Kyiv set a slightly alarming precedent. A three hour queue for a taxi gave the impression UEFA hadn't planned this particular final well. But that proved to be about the only glitch. Driving through pot-holed, former Soviet roads which transitioned between contemporary and derelict all too easily, you lost sight of why you had travelled to the Ukraine to begin.

The night before,the city was set on and there was the slight air of familiarity in the form of mass Liverpool support — albeit without the contemporary European homeliness which usually accompanies such trips. The white of Madrid was conspicuous by its absence, with only the odd replica shirt emanating from the techno-blurring acoustics of the fan stage.

Fans of Liverpool congregating in Shevchenko Park

Even the morning of the game didn't feel like that of a European Cup final, we should know after all. I stayed in some high-rises in the east of the city. Sipping espresso in the morning I watched locals on a basketball court in what felt like a regular weekend encounter. I was enjoying this element of culture brought to the occasion, but it was certainly different.

As the sun beat and morning turned to afternoon, the word on everyone's lips was Shevchenko Park. A space near to the stadium and centre which was allocated to Liverpool as a gathering point in the day. We made our way up to it early afternoon, with the cobbled streets still eerily empty. Yet as we drew ever closer, the breeze carried with it a familiar tone and chant in the distance. On approach, the surrounding bowl of centurion trees seemed to wave like flags on the Kop.

A park overtaken by a sea of Red.

The noise grew and grew before a sea of red splashed the green around it. Liverpool banners stapled the erected corrugated fence on entrance. As you moved branches and the plumes of red smoke it felt like a Liverpool Narnia. The city, stadium and whole supporting ethos had been picked up and dropped slap-bang in the centre of a Ukrainian parkland, and it felt like there was nowhere else anyone would rather be.

It's so hard to explain just what happened in that park. We know what went down over 90 minutes in the night, but in many ways that only told half of the story of Kyiv. I'd never say it didn't matter because it did to so many. We should never forget that there are plenty who will go through life never seeing their team reach one European Cup final, so any opportunity to win it should be met with every sinew of will to do so.

But it was in this park with friends, family and supporters of this thing we love is where it seemed to finally make sense. All those words of the manager about unity and a one-track mind. About one aspect being as important as the other. They were no longer words, you felt it. These were my people and those eleven later are our boys. In many senses, the manager's greatest achievement was laid out in that park, that day.

I remember leaving the stadium after the whistle. My friend in tears but me unwaveringly defiant. The most upbeat I have possibly felt after any defeat. I remember telling him what that team had done meant we saw only them after the whistle. Madrid fans had filtered out long before us, a lot not not even bothering to see the trophy lift. To them and their players it was just another one, so what? I hadn't been to many lost finals, but you remember the hurt of seeing the other team celebrate, even knowing they'll celebrate it if you don't stick around. Not for me on this night.

We left with nothing and I felt like that day and this team and this manager had given us everything. We wasn't done, this was only the start. The brightest light of red, the green shoots of hope and the wonderland of Shevchenko Park told a generation that this was something they'd never felt before. Strap yourself in, this is going to be some ride.