There are more of us than you think. A quarter of overseas visitors to Europe now travel slowly, up from a fifth the year before, and that number is yours; your own barometer found it. We are the ones who pick a single town, rent the apartment, learn the market, and stay long enough to be recognized at the café. You have a name for us, and it is the wrong one.

Call one kind of traveler quality, and you have defined all the others by what they lack. You sorted your visitors into two groups and gave only one of them the flattering word. Some of the rest are the same people on a shorter trip in a harder year.

The strange thing is that a fair request is hiding inside the bad name. Stay longer. Come when it’s quieter. Eat where the menu isn’t in four languages. None of that grades anyone. It is an invitation, and it happens to describe a market already growing without your help.

So tell your members to build for staying, not to rank the guests. A seventh night that costs nothing should be something we can plan around, not a surprise on the bill. The two-week visitor should get the library card and the transit pass. The museum should sell a month as easily as an afternoon. Do that, and more of us will extend the trip, and the traveler with only four days this year will see the reason to come back for two weeks the next.

We were already walking toward what you say you want. You had something generous to offer and reached for a rope instead. Put the rope down. Ask us to stay.