Eiffel Tower Red Night Countdown Timer

Paris at night is a different animal. The tourists thin out, the river goes dark and glossy, and then the tower switches on and the whole city stops pretending it isn't in love with itself. I've seen it sparkle, I've seen it gold. But red — red is something else. Standing under that arch, looking up through the iron lattice, the color bleeds into everything, the bridge, the stone lions, the faces of strangers all lit like they're at a party none of us were invited to. Behind it, the École Militaire sits quiet and pale, a little church dome glowing, traffic smearing past in long red streaks. I didn't say anything for a while. Neither did anyone around me. Some views shut you up. If you're in Paris and the tower goes red for some occasion, don't watch it from a café. Get close. Stand in the middle of the road if it's safe and the light's with you. Let it be too much. Red floodlights, which is not the color anybody expects, and it changes the whole mood of the thing, less postcard, more after-hours. The base is enormous. You forget that until you are underneath it. That's the point.