Greek braised octopus with short pasta

Χταπόδι με μακαρονάκι κοφτό

I have always lived near the sea and I can't imagine living anywhere where the sea isn't at walking (or biking) distance. Even if I don't have a view of it from my window, I can still feel its presence and that, in some way, makes me feel free.
It seems that I fell in love with the sea from a very young age. I don't remember exactly when I learned how to swim but I can't remember a time when I wasn't swimming.

We had a summer house by the sea and for three whole months, I'd be at the beach for hours each day either swimming, playing with my friends, or engaging in my other favorite activity; helping my grandfather with his catch of the day.

No, my grandfather wasn't a fisherman, but he loved going diving for mussels and clams, and adored going spearfishing for octopuses. Whenever he'd catch one, he'd emerge from the sea like another Poseidon, trident-type fish spear in one hand, octopus in the other, and my brother and I would go running towards him, eager to see it. It would still be moving and curling its tentacles upwards or inwards, and I just couldn't help but touch his little round suckers.