Daikandaiji does not exist any more. That is the interesting thing about it. In the seventh century this was one of the biggest temples in the young Yamato state, a royal foundation near Asuka with a vast compound that, according to the old records, ranked among the top few in the country. When the capital moved north to Nara early in the eighth century, the temple went with it, reborn as Daianji, and the original site was left to farmland. What remains is an open field with low foundation stones, a few information boards, and the quiet that follows a big idea.
The setting is classic Nara basin: flat rice fields, small hills at the edges, and the green triangles of Mount Miwa and the Asuka hills not far away. The nearest big towns are Sakura and Kashihara, both with fuel, supermarkets and trains, so there is no pressure to stock up. The roads around here are narrow and agricultural, often one lane and a half, and the speed limit is a polite suggestion that the local tractors enforce for everyone.
You are on well-trodden pilgrim ground. Routes of the Kumano Kodo pilgrimage pass through this region, and the old road to Mount Koya also threads the area. If the ride you are on mentions those, you are following the same line pilgrims have walked for a thousand years, only with more horsepower. The foundation stones are spread out in the grass in a pattern that you can read once you stand on the right spot, and the whole thing takes about ten minutes to understand and fifty to enjoy.
Local food is plain and good. Nara is known for kakinoha-zushi, a pressed sushi wrapped in persimmon leaves, and for tsukemono pickles that appear on every set meal. Autumn is the season for persimmons, which hang orange on bare branches against the paddies, and if you come in May the rice is just planted, fields shining like mirrors. Summer is hot and humid, and the cicadas drown conversation. Go early or late, and plan on a lunch in a small town instead of a view.