t’s on the train that Marni realizes she doesn’t have the address. She has the 15 pages of instructions, including how to use the washing machine, how to hang up clothes outside to dry. She has the warning about pigeons roosting above the bedroom window and the apologies for the crumbling stairs and the hallway in disrepair. She has pages of information about where to buy the best fruits and vegetables, and wine, and about the Arab markets down the hill that sell the best dates and olives (because their host has written that they are almost in North Africa, don’t forget). They have the keys for the building and the apartment. But there is no address.