Clones and Thurles in the same weekend. We thought we'd died and gone to traffic hell.

Clones has easier access but it's the greater challenge. If you are old enough to remember the classic BBC series Colditz, when the chaps used to feel duty bound to put one over on the Hun by escaping from the Huns' top prison, well you know a little of the feeling that comes over a hack approaching Clones.

When the guys in Colditz would make a run for freedom they would typically do so with a basic knowledge of the local culture, with dodgy papers, and disguised as nuns or simple workmen. They'd break for the Swiss border and when they arrived there the tension would really mount as they stood shaking while the young sergeant examined their papers with a frown.

Occasionally he would turn and walk towards the lieutenant, shouting excitedly, "uberloytnant, uberloytnant", and suddenly the air would be thick with "achtungs". On those occasions the jig was up. End of caper. Sometimes, though, the chaps would make it across and they'd rejoice and then they'd send back postcards to their former POW friends. Aunty Having Splendid Time in Lucerne. Wish You Were Here, etc.

You approach the officialdom in Clones in much the same manner. Carpark passes, press-box passes, match tickets. They scrutinise everything in the same dour manner. You feel at any time they'll just take you from the car and shoot you. On Saturday, with the mass of old Dubs washing about, the mood of the local bib-wearing brigade had declined sharply. It was a surprise to see the teams gaining admission.

And maybe for some Derry people a disappointment to see their side. It's a long time since a Derry team has come to Clones and looked so poor. Going forward in the first half (if "going forward" isn't too much of an overstatement) they took so much out of the ball it was surprising it had any air left in it by the time it got worked into the Dublin half.

Dublin were affecting afterwards that all they had learned from the past couple of weeks was who their friends were but it's hard not to imagine they are coming to hard conclusions about what their best team is. And it's not what they thought.

What a pleasure it was to see Jason Sherlock reinstate himself with a goal and three points. Opinions on Jason are sharply divided in the city but in this house, his performance is further proof that intelligence and hard work never go out of fashion on the field. He moved with a smartness and swiftness that sowed panic into the Derry defence. It would be an act of foolishness and defiance to leave him out of the starting line-up the next day.

There must be worries now about Ray Cosgrove. Last summer, he blossomed suddenly and beautifully. This summer, it's hard work. The balls aren't floating into him so early. The defenders have him well shackled. Until Saturday the Dublin attack wasn't playing with the wisdom it needs. Ray looks as if his confidence has been filched.

Other things? Dessie Farrell still has it. Shane Ryan is a defender. David Henry might be the new Jayo in terms of mysterious disappearances. Ciarán Whelan needs the big days to come a little closer together. Alan Brogan looks tired. Mossy Quinn deserved a start on Saturday. When he was finally thrown in he looked as if his confidence had been tampered with.

All in all the Dubs got a reprieve on Saturday, not a release. We drove away into the treacly traffic reflecting that under Tommy Lyons's generalship Dublin still lose to teams they should lose to and still beat teams they should beat.

He needs a coup.

Thurles yesterday was more fraught and the traffic was congealed to the road all the way in. There was a sort of strained desperation on the faces of the Waterford people making their way to Semple Stadium. Cork haven't won an All-Ireland since 1999 and can convince themselves that a crisis is afoot. In Waterford, though, the wait has been an eternity longer and there was a sense that the chances to go all the way are very few and far between.

Another one went past yesterday.

They shoehorned us into the old press box and we wondered what perversity of modern fire regulations meant the new press box could be unsafe while the sardine tin we sweated the afternoon out in could be deemed fine?

It's a TV thing, apparently. The TV pretty boys must not be endangered. No value on ugly print hacks' lives at all!

The desperation sparked a fine buzz of excitement about Waterford on the terraces and on the pitch. They started as if they were playing for their lives and the game had gone into injury time. They shuffled their forwards like a three-card trick man at a race meeting and scored two quick points.

You had the impression, though, that everything Waterford know about hurling Cork already had in their heads.

Setanta scored a goal from an oblique angle and one couldn't help noticing in the general acclaim that the Waterford defence had been all over the place for the score.

As the half grew older and Waterford necklaced together a sequence of points to give themselves a five-point half-time lead we refused to be impressed. There was just a feeling of doom over Waterford yesterday.

They are one of those teams who on the big days need absolutely every one of their big players to be firing.

That doesn't leave room for Ken McGrath to swat six wides. Or for Eoin Kelly and Eoin McGrath to get just two points between them.

In the first half, Tony Browne did a fine amount of work in midfield but at the end of the afternoon, adding up the scores from eight to number 12, they got six points from play between them, seven all told. Against Limerick, they had registered 3-9 the first day and 1-9 the second day.

So Cork came out for the second half and won everything in the middle third of the field for about 10 minutes and though they said nice things afterwards about the refusal of the Waterford team to die you could hear the breath rattling in their throats.

So it went. Another Cork Munster title. They took it with gratitude this time. The crowd sang The Banks in a rather self-conscious way and the management got down to worrying about the distant semi-final.

Cork out of Munster. Dubs still learning. Traffic to be faced.

Same as it ever was.