In the days when I went over by train, I would usually arrive at Heuston in time to catch a Cork train that didn't stop at Ballybrophy, so, rather than go to Templemore and come back, I would wait for the half eight, which did stop there. I used to take stuff over in a 'disposable suitcase' - a cardboard box, strapped up, that I didn't have to bring back, empty - on some occasions it would weigh as much as seventy pounds. I would get it to the platform gate and then watch the goings on, whilst the first train loaded and went. On one occasion, I was chatting to the ticket chap, just as the gate was about to close before departure, when he suddenly said "Hang on to that and don't let anybody past!" and threw me his ticket punch as he sprinted down the platform and disappeared into the ticket hall. Moments later, he re-appeared at full speed, carrying two cases, and being followed, as fast as he could, by the 'city gent' that he'd spotted hurrying to get a ticket that would have made him miss the train. The cases were put in through the last door on the train, closely followed by the wheezing gent - "They'll sell you a ticket on the train and it'll cost you the same", he said, as the train moved off, on time.
On another occasion, I presented my Stafford-Ballybrophy return ticket and was told "I'm not stamping that. It must be unique!", as it was handed back in pristine condition...