IELTS Speaking: примеры вопросов и ответы на band 8

I grew up in Porto, on the north coast of Portugal. It's a hilly, fairly compact city, so you can walk almost everywhere, and the river gives it a slightly old-fashioned, relaxed feel even though it's quite busy these days.

Quite a lot, actually. Tourism has taken off over the last ten years, so many of the old shops in the centre have turned into cafés and short-term rentals. It's livelier than it used to be, but locals have been pushed further out.

Probably, yes, though not right away. I'd like to spend a few more years somewhere bigger for work, but when I picture settling down, it's always somewhere near the river there.

On the whole, yes. We lived next to a big park, so most evenings I was outside with the neighbours' kids until it got dark. Looking back, I had a lot more freedom than children seem to have now.

Building things, mostly. I was obsessed with Lego, and later with taking old radios apart to see how they worked, which my parents were less keen on.

In some ways. They have far more opportunities to learn, but they're also much more supervised and spend a lot of time on screens, so I'm not sure they get the same chance to just be bored and invent their own games.

I'm in my final year of a civil engineering degree, and I also do a couple of shifts a week at a design office, mainly checking drawings.

Partly because I was good at maths and physics, but mostly because I like seeing a result. A bridge or a building is something you can actually point at years later.

I'd like more hands-on projects. A lot of the course is still theory, and you only really understand a concept once you've had to apply it on a real site.

I do, though mostly non-fiction at the moment. I find it's the only time my phone is out of reach, so it's become a way of switching off at the end of the day rather than just a hobby.

Definitely. As a kid I'd get through a book every few days because there was simply less competing for my attention. Now it's more like one a month, but I probably take more in from each one.

Printed, if I'm honest. I travel a lot, so an e-reader is more practical, but I remember what I've read much better when I can flick back through actual pages.

Mild but unpredictable. Summers are warm without being too hot, and winters are wet rather than cold. The main thing is that it can change completely within an hour.

More than I'd like to admit. After a week of grey skies I definitely feel flatter, so in winter I make a point of getting outside at lunchtime when there's any light at all.

Early autumn. The heat has gone but it's still bright, the tourists have mostly left, and the evenings are perfect for a long walk by the sea.

Mainly because it removes the risk. If you've only got two weeks off a year, you don't want to gamble them on somewhere that might disappoint you. There's also a social side. Families who go back to the same village often build friendships there, so the holiday becomes less about the place and more about the people.

Why it works: It gives two distinct reasons and develops each, with a natural contrast between them.

I'd say it depends on how it's managed. In cities like Venice the sheer numbers have clearly damaged everyday life for residents. On the other hand, for a lot of smaller economies tourism is the main source of jobs. So the problem isn't tourism itself but the lack of limits, things like caps on cruise ships or short-term rentals.

Why it works: It takes a position but qualifies it, using precise vocabulary (sheer numbers, caps, short-term rentals).

Up to a point. Being somewhere physically certainly helps, but a typical one-week holiday rarely gets you past hotels and restaurants. Arguably you'd learn more by living alongside people from that culture at home, or by learning the language, than by a short trip where you never really leave the tourist bubble.

Why it works: It concedes partially, then challenges the premise. This is exactly the move examiners reward in Part 3.

I suspect we'll see fewer, longer trips. Flying is likely to become more expensive as carbon costs are added, and remote working means people can stay somewhere for a month instead of a long weekend. I can also imagine rail making a comeback in Europe, since night trains are already becoming popular again.

Why it works: It speculates with a range of modal and hedging forms (suspect, likely, can imagine) and supports each idea.

I'm not convinced they are. People are probably more cautious in big cities, partly because they're busy and partly because they worry about being taken advantage of. But whenever there's a real emergency, like a flood, you see huge numbers of volunteers turn up, so I think the willingness is still there.

Why it works: It challenges the assumption and backs the counter-view with a concrete example.

I think they should encourage it rather than make it compulsory. Forced volunteering tends to turn into box-ticking. If schools offer a range of options and let students choose something they actually care about, they're far more likely to keep doing it as adults.

Why it works: It refines the question (encourage vs. require) and explains the consequence of each.

Ideally both, but in different ways. Families are best placed to provide day-to-day company and emotional support, whereas the state has the resources for things like healthcare and properly trained carers. The real difficulty is that as people live longer, families are increasingly stretched, so the government's share will inevitably grow.

Why it works: It divides responsibility clearly and finishes with a reasoned prediction.

Children usually pick things up faster, especially physical skills and languages, because they're less self-conscious about making mistakes. Adults, though, have the advantage of motivation and discipline. An adult who really wants to learn something can often make faster progress in a structured course.

Why it works: It contrasts both sides and identifies the specific advantage of each group.

For some things, yes. You can learn to cook or fix a bike perfectly well from a good video. But for anything where you need feedback on your technique, like swimming or an instrument, a teacher spots problems you simply can't see yourself.

Why it works: It distinguishes between types of skill rather than giving a flat yes or no.

Probably the ones that are hardest to automate: communication, working in a team, and the ability to keep learning. Technical knowledge goes out of date quickly now, so being able to retrain every few years may matter more than any particular qualification.

Why it works: It ranks ideas, justifies them and uses a confident but hedged tone (probably, may matter).