Mid-February in Madison is a special kind of bleak. I was staring at a half-packed suitcase, a stack of wool socks I definitely wouldn’t need in Mexico City, and the realization that my Spanish was currently limited to 'hola' and 'gracias.' I had exactly fourteen days before my flight, and as a freelance UX writer who spends her days critiquing microcopy, I knew I needed more than a 'good luck' from a green owl.
Before we dive into the wreckage of my app folder, a quick heads up: when you click through to one of the language apps or services I link to here and end up paying for a subscription, I earn a commission at no extra cost to you. I only write about apps I have actually paid for and used long enough to form a real opinion—including the ones I eventually cancelled because their UI made me want to throw my phone across the room.
The Zombie App Audit and the Two-Week Sprint
As someone who has been picking up and dropping language apps since college, my phone is a graveyard of 'zombie apps'—subscriptions I pay for but never open. I have this habit of daydreaming about Japanese while I’m supposed to be practicing Italian, leading to a folder of icons that just stare at me with digital judgment. For this trip, I needed something that felt less like a chore and more like a tool. I wasn’t looking for 'fluency'—I avoid that word the way some people avoid the word 'moist.' I just wanted to be at the level of 'ordering food without panicking' and maybe navigating an airport without looking like a lost toddler.
I considered my usual suspects. I’ve logged more hours on these things than I’d like to admit, often during the post-lunch slump when my brain refuses to write another line of error messaging for a client. I needed a high-speed sprint. I looked at EF English Live, which is an 'Editor’s Pick' for a reason—it has a massive structure with 16 levels mapped to the CEFR. However, since I’m already comfortable in the only language it teaches, it was a non-starter for my Spanish goals. It’s great for my corporate consultant friends who need to polish their English between back-to-back video calls, but for me, it was back to the drawing board.
Weighing the Heavy Hitters: Rocket vs. Mondly
I then turned to Rocket Languages. I’ve used their Italian course before—I even wrote about trading my daily streak for a lifetime seat with them. It’s audio-heavy and great for people who want to understand the 'why' behind the grammar. They have a very generous 60-day money-back guarantee, which is basically a lifetime in the world of app subscriptions. But Rocket feels like a commitment. It’s like a textbook that lives in your ears. When you have two weeks and you’re currently sitting on a couch in your pajamas, you sometimes want something that feels a bit more... gamified.
That’s how I ended up back with Mondly by Pearson. I’ve kept a subscription active for a while because they cover 41 languages, which feeds my occasional Japanese daydreaming. It’s built for 'habit stacking'—that thing productivity gurus talk about where you tie a new habit to your morning coffee. For me, it’s usually tying a lesson to the moment I realize I’m about to start doom-scrolling on LinkedIn.
Mondly is the 'Habit Builder' of the group. It doesn’t try to be a deep-dive linguistic immersion; it tries to get you to say something, anything, every single day. For a two-week sprint, that’s exactly the kind of momentum I needed. I started my 'Daily Lessons' roughly two weeks before the flight, usually while the radiator in my Madison apartment clanked in the corner, providing a rhythmic backdrop to my struggle with Spanish verbs.
The Living Room Failure and the AR Experiment
One rainy Tuesday evening, about a week into my sprint, I decided to try the Mondly AR mode. It uses augmented reality to put a virtual teacher in your room. I was standing in my pitch-black living room, the blue light of my phone screen reflecting off my glasses, trying to convince a digital avatar that I knew how to ask for the check. I kept yelling 'la cuenta' at my phone for the fourth time, but the voice recognition was being stubborn. It insisted I hadn’t said anything at all. I got louder and more frustrated until I finally woke up my cat, who gave me a look of pure, unadulterated judgment before stalking out of the room.
I’ve always felt that grammar drills are like 'eating my vegetables.' You know they’re good for you, but you’d much rather be doing the fun stuff—like learning how to say 'this coffee is cold' or 'where is the bathroom?' Mondly’s approach is a bit translation-heavy, which can feel mechanical, but the streak counter is a powerful drug. There’s a specific, sharp jolt of adrenaline when the 'streak at risk' notification pings just as I’m pulling the covers up to my chin at night. It’s the only thing that gets me back out of bed to finish a five-minute lesson.
I couldn't help but think about how my grandmother would laugh if she saw me. She was Italian and never quite got around to teaching me the language properly. She’d probably find the idea of learning a Romance language from a virtual reality bird—or a floating AR teacher—absolutely ridiculous. She learned through people and food; I’m over here trying to satisfy an algorithm.
The Micro-Learning Edge for the Busy Freelancer
What I realized during those two weeks is that most language advice assumes you have these long, focused blocks of time. But as a freelancer, my day is a series of micro-moments. I’m waiting for a client to give feedback on a Figma file, or I’m waiting for a Zoom call to start. This is why apps like Mondly work for people like corporate consultants or busy writers. We don't have an hour for a deep dive; we have four minutes while the kettle boils.
The lessons stack up in a way that feels manageable. I wasn't becoming 'fluent,' but I was building a vocabulary of survival. I was moving past 'hola' into the territory of 'una mesa para uno, por favor.' I even started poking at the differences between Spanish and the Italian I already knew, which is a dangerous game that usually ends with me inventing a new, hybrid language that no one speaks. If you're juggling multiple interests, you might find my Mondly review for beginners helpful for managing that mental load.
By the time I hit my long layover on the way to Mexico City, I was actually looking forward to the 'Daily Lesson.' It had become a ritual. Instead of worrying about language learning anxiety, I was just focused on keeping that little flame icon alive. The app had successfully gamified my fear of looking stupid in a foreign country.
The Chilaquiles Test
The real test didn't happen in the app; it happened at a chilaquiles stand in Roma Norte. I stood there, heart racing slightly, and managed to order 'chilaquiles verdes con huevo, sin cebolla.' The vendor didn't even blink. He just nodded and told me the price. I understood it. I didn't have to ask him to repeat it three times. It was a small victory, but it felt like winning a marathon.
That moment of 'ordering food without panicking' is why I keep these subscriptions active. Yes, the voice recognition in Mondly can be a pain, and yes, the AR mode is a bit of a gimmick, but it got me to the stand. It got me the food. And it kept me from being the tourist who just points and speaks English louder.
I’m back in Madison now, and the wool socks are back on. But I haven't cancelled the Mondly subscription yet. I’m still doing the daily lessons, mostly because I’ve started that Japanese daydream again. Whether you’re prepping for a two-week sprint or just trying to keep your brain from turning into mush between client calls, finding an app that fits into your actual life—not your idealized 'one hour of study' life—is the only way to make it stick. If you're ready to start your own sprint, you can check out Mondly and see if the habit-stacking works for you too.