From Delmar the next morning we again drove south with the sea on our right and the hills on our left. The road winds over very hilly country through a growth of rare pines known as the Torrey pines, found only here. From the heights of these hills one sees at a distance a point of land stretching into the sea, with a little town shining on its slopes like a jewel in the sun. It looks, as one approaches it from the north, like a Riviera town. This is the enchanted spot on the southern coast known as La Jolla (pronounced La Hoya), a little town frequented by people who love the Spanish warmth of the Southern sun and the blue of the Southern sea. Here is a beautiful Episcopal school for girls, its stucco buildings planned in Spanish fashion. Here is a charming little church of the same architecture. Here, perched on the rocks, looking out to sea along the coast fringe of the town, are flat-roofed stucco houses with a matchless view of the water. Farther back on the hills overlooking the town, are lovely winter homes, also built in the architecture of Southern countries. La Jolla is one of the loveliest spots on the whole Pacific Coast. Its rocks, its caves, its Southern sea, its sunshine, all combine to make it a delightful place in which to spend a winter. La Jolla is only fourteen miles from San Diego, and it was an easy drive from there into the bright, clean, shining city of the South. San Diego is at present in a state of transition, the transition from a little city to a big city. She has a matchless harbor, plenty of room in which to grow, and what is becoming a rich surrounding country. She has a perfect situation, with the harbor before her and the hills rising behind her. When the rails connect her with the "back country" she will undoubtedly become a powerful city. What could be more beautiful than the drive from San Diego out along the point which curves like a great claw into the sea and is known as Point Loma? The road first sweeps along close to the water, passing rows of pretty suburban homes. Then it rises, swings up over the hills on to the high ridge of Point Loma proper, the open sea to the right, the harbor to the left, passing the beautifully kept grounds of the fine property belonging to the School of Theosophy. Beyond, the road still climbs until it comes to the end of the Point, on which stands a little old Spanish lighthouse, now abandoned. High above the sea one looks off to the far away islands. Turning about, one sees the city, white in the sun, the mountains rising in the distance behind it. Running out from the city is a long, narrow strip of land which widens into Coronado Beach, with the red roofs of the hotel and the green stretches of the beautiful little town of Coronado. Just below is the blue water of the great harbor. It is a grand view, and ranks in my opinion with the noble views of Sydney Harbor in Australia and of Auckland harbor in New Zealand.