Not flashcards with a voice bolted on. You hold conversations, and everything else — your notebook, your verb tables, your scores — comes out of them.
You order the coffee, ask the pharmacist what to take, view the flat, sit the job interview, call in sick. Each one has something to get done, and the person across from you has a mood, a job, and no obligation to make it easy.
Barcelona uses vosotros, Mexico City ustedes, Buenos Aires full voseo. Osaka answers in Kansai, Tokyo in standard. Québec tutoies you where Paris would not. You learn the language someone actually speaks, in one place, rather than an average of everywhere.
A short conversation places you from A1 to C1 — no test, just talking. After that everyone speaks to you at your level: shorter sentences and one question at a time near the beginning, room to ramble later. If you are quiet, they slow down and offer you a choice instead of an open question.
Tell her what you feel like doing and she takes you there. She remembers where you have been, asks how it went, and notices patterns you cannot see in yourself — like a verb form you never once use.
Tap any word you hear and it is saved with its meaning, examples and audio. Heard something out in the world instead? Look it up and keep that too. Words you have actually used are marked as yours.
Every tense, including the compound ones. Tap any form and the companion starts a short conversation whose answers need exactly that form — because nobody ever learned to speak by reading a table.
Not a pass or a fail: which syllable went wrong, and what to do about it. Hear yourself next to a native speaker, and work on the specific sounds you keep missing.
Every conversation is scored on what matters — did you get the task done, were you understood, did you recover when it went wrong — and plotted over time, so you can see the parts that are moving.
Twenty-one everyday domains — food, health, housing, work, transport, the phone company — each filled in by the words you have genuinely mastered, not the places you have visited. You can see at a glance that you could handle a pharmacy but would still struggle at the bank, and which level you have practised each one at.
A guide walks you through a real neighbourhood a stop at a time — what the building is, who lived there, why anyone cares — and you talk about it as you go. Same practice, different shape, for the days when another errand is not what you need.
It is speaking practice, not a course. There are no grammar lessons, and it will not replace talking to real people — nothing does. What it gives you is somewhere to be bad at a language at two in the morning, with nobody's face changing.