Aer Lingus owner IAG beats second-quarter profit estimates
Europe's airlines have broadly managed to dodge turmoil over tariffs, with Air France-KLM and Lufthansa reporting strong second quarters and confirming their annual forecasts this week.
Advertisement
IAG reported operating profit of €1.68 billion for the quarter, up 35 per cent from a €1.2 billion profit in the same period last year.
Aer Lingus reported operating profits of €135 million for the quarter, a significant improvement on its operating profit of €91 million the same time last year.
"We continue to benefit from the trend of a structural shift in consumer spending towards travel. We remain focused on our market-leading brands and core geographies, where we continue to see robust performance," chief executive Luis Gallego said in a statement.
The group confirmed its full-year financial forecasts and said it was seeing strong demand in its core North Atlantic markets, as well as Latin America and Europe.
Advertisement
The airline group said it expected a slight rise in costs due to lower capacity growth tied to air traffic control issues in Europe as well as cancelled flights to destinations like Tel Aviv.
While Gallego acknowledged volatility in the US economic situation, he said any weakness was mitigated by strengths in other parts of the business.
Ireland
Airport worker who told Aer Lingus rep to 'f....of...
Read More
"The US point-of-sale economy cabin is still weak but it's offset by the strong premium cabin we have ... but it has been improving in the past few weeks," Gallego told reporters on a media call.
US airlines have not fared as well, with Delta pulling its full-year guidance this spring over worries about declining demand.
Growth in the Latin American market has also continued to boost the business, Gallego added.
IAG shares have been among the strongest performers among European airlines in recent years, but this year they have slightly lagged rivals Lufthansa and Air France-KLM as they have recovered from cost pressures.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Times
39 minutes ago
- Times
I've found the secret to a happy relationship: an ‘airport divorce'
In the end our differences were irreconcilable. Morwenna and I had only been engaged for a couple of months, but after about a dozen holidays and a good 24 hours spent in airports together, we decided that enough was enough. If anything, the security of our forthcoming marriage had granted us the freedom to (finally) be honest with each other. No more indulging irritating habits. Out with the qualities of patience and tolerance we had flaunted while dating. So vastly different were our approaches to flying that an 'airport divorce' — that is, parting ways after passing through security and reconvening an hour or so later on the plane — felt like the optimal outcome for both of us. There were certain things we agreed upon, mostly to do with pre-flight planning. After years of time-maximising by taking early-morning and late-evening flights, we're now committed middle-of-the-day flyers. And we both reckon it's sensible to arrive a couple of hours before departure. It's when we get past the bag scanners and snake through duty free that the friction begins. 'I'm just going to have a look here,' said Morwenna in the smellies area at Alicante airport last month. I shuffled along behind her. She handled a moisturiser for a few seconds then returned it. And again. A third time. 'Are you just going to pick objects up then put them back down for half an hour?' I asked. 'Yes,' she said, 'that's what I like doing at the airport.' And that was the fateful moment we chose to part company and link up later on the plane. A British Airways survey from a couple of years ago found that more than half of travellers claim to 'adopt a new personality' within the hectic, anxiety-inducing tinderbox that is the airport. I think both Morwenna and I fall into this camp. To look at things within the framework of type A/B personality theory, in non-airport life I'd argue that, like most people, we both sit somewhere between A (organised, think time management is sexy) and B (relaxed, susceptible to being late). At the airport we transmute, werewolf-like, into unrecognisable beings. I amp up my neurotic type A side; Morwenna leans into her laid-back type B persona (all the more difficult to comprehend because in the real world she is five minutes early for everything). We are not our best, balanced selves. • 11 of the most romantic holiday destinations around the world What this means in practice is that, before the gate number is announced, I like to sit somewhere with a direct view of a departures board (if that's Wetherspoons then all the better), so I am ready to leap up and half-walk, half-run in the right direction. Morwenna, on the other hand, is well aware that the plane isn't really going to start boarding 45 minutes before departure. So she browses. And browses. Taking pleasure in her only real responsibility in that moment: being to make it onto the plane and challenging herself to be the last on board. At the gate I like to be in line relatively early, both to soothe my anxiety over missing the flight and to secure a spot for my cabin bag. Not Morwenna. Our mutual travel history is a series of episodes involving me repeating, 'Shall we get in the queue then?' and her responding '… but why?' So on that journey back from Alicante, she did her thing, I did mine. She perused the tins of olives and anchovies; I knocked back an Estrella and scanned the flight information board. I was anxious on her behalf. We gave each other nasty looks across the gate while I queued and she lounged. But aside from that … it was a much less fraught experience all round. • 10 of the most romantic city breaks in Europe Some couples say a 'sleep divorce' is the secret to a happy relationship. I'd say it's splitting up at the airport. Are you a fan of the 'airport divorce'? Let us know in the comments
The Guardian
3 hours ago
- The Guardian
‘Our north is the south': Softball leagues flourish in Brazilian city as Cuban arrivals outnumber Venezuelans for first time
If he had been able to choose, Roberto Hernandez Tello, 59, would have gone to the United States last May, when he left Cuba in search of a better life. However, due to Donald Trump's anti-immigration policies, he ended up in Curitiba, in southern Brazil, 3,940 miles from his native Camagüey. Thousands of his compatriots have arrived in Brazil this year, contributing to a shift in which, for the first time, more Cubans than Venezuelans are applying for asylum in Latin America's largest country. 'I love Cuba, but with the crisis it's impossible to live there now,' said Tello. 'I have a 31-year-old son who lives in the US. But since Trump scrapped the parole, I chose to come to Brazil,' he added, referring to the US president's elimination of the humanitarian programme known as CHNV, which had benefited migrants from Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua and Venezuela. For years, Venezuela's political and economic crises has driven people out of the country, creating a global diaspora of nearly 8 million. However, as of June this year, Brazil has had twice as many asylum requests from Cubans, 19,419, compared with Venezuelans, 9,850. Cubans typically travel to Guyana or Suriname, countries with less bureaucratic visa processes, before crossing the land border into the northern Brazilian states of Roraima and Amapá. But many are continuing their journey way down south, particularly to Curitiba – a city home to 1.8 million and the capital of Paraná state – which ranks just behind the northern entry-point towns in Cuban asylum requests. The city has the highest GDP of the southern state capitals and is known for its strong public transportation, healthcare and education systems. There are so many Cubans and Venezuelans in Curitiba that they've formed two leagues of softball, a sport virtually unknown in football-obsessed Brazil. About 350 players, split across 16 teams, play the larger-ball, compact version of baseball on makeshift pitches of two parks in São José dos Pinhais, just outside Curitiba. The catcher of one team, Ernesto Alberto Keiser Limonta, 30, arrived last year. He lives with his wife and is now focused on bringing the rest of the family to join them. 'I chose Curitiba because I was told it's a prosperous, safe city that has a lot of work,' he said. Almost every Sunday, Limonta takes to the field in full uniform – cap, jersey bearing the flags of Cuba and Brazil, trousers, socks, and cleats without metal studs, to avoid injuries that could prevent someone from working the next day. Given that the heavy influx of Venezuelans began earlier, they make up most of the players, but the roughly 20 Cubans have managed to form a dedicated Team Cuba. 'There's a saying among migrants – and now it's being repeated by Cubans – that our north is the south,' said one Venezuelan, Angel Blanco, 44, who founded one of the leagues. The movement began last year when – according to the UN Refugee Agency – Brazil became the country with the highest number of Cubans applying for asylum (22,288 applications), ahead of Mexico (17,884) and the US (13,685). The figures could be even higher, as many Cubans struggle even to submit their requests. Tello, for instance, has been seeking help from the humanitarian NGO José as he still has not been able to book an appointment with the federal police to formally register his request. Only with the protocol, which also serves as an ID, can migrants be officially hired by Brazilian employers. Appointments must be booked online, and the next available slot wasn't until November, Tello said. 'I'm afraid I'll run out of money – and if I do, I'll end up sleeping on the streets. In this cold, I'd be dead within days,' he added, referring to the city's climate, where temperatures can drop to 5C. A federal police spokesperson said the gap was 'due to high and growing demand' and that 'ongoing efforts to expand capacity have not been enough to keep pace with the exponential number of migrants arriving in the region.' Yaneth Corina Lara Garcia, a Venezuelan who works as an integration assistant at the non-profit organisation Cáritas Curitiba, said: 'It's six months in which, unable to get formal work, Cuban migrants end up vulnerable to exploitation – including modern slavery.' Another common challenge for Cubans is having their university degrees recognised, which forces many into lower-paid jobs, such as construction or cooking. Yarismeli Nardo, 36, a psychologist who has lived in Curitiba since 2019, is one of the few to have had her degree recognised. But it wasn't easy, she says. The Federal University of Paraná opens just one application round per year, requiring a lengthy list of documents – often difficult to obtain in Cuba – as well as exams and interviews. However, she persisted, and while working as a pharmacy sales assistant, Nardo completed the process. She now spends two days a week working as a psychologist at a clinic and the rest as an IT technician. Now, six years after she left, Nardo is planning her first holiday back to Cuba. 'I want to save a little money, because my biggest wish is to see my grandmother, who's 94,' she said. 'When I first came here, I felt as if I was nobody – starting from scratch, where no one knew me. Now I feel as if I'm finally catching my breath.'
Daily Mail
6 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Ingenious ways to pass on your wealth inheritance tax-free - without turning your children into lazy brats
Many families would far rather pass wealth to the next generation than have it seized by the taxman but are wary of giving children and grandchildren too easy a ride. It's a classic conundrum. How do you give away your hard-earned money without undermining the values of hard work and financial responsibility you hope to instil in your offspring?
